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Full text of "Amos Judd"

J-A-MITCHELL 



GIFT OF 

MICHAEL REESE 




AMOS JCDD 



AMOS JUDD 



BY 



J. A. MITCHELL 



ILLUSTRATED BY A. J. KELLER 




NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
1901 

Copyright, 1895, 1901, by Charles Scnbner s Sons 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

FROM DRAWINGS IN COLOR BY A. I. KELLER 

I 

Fignette Title-Page 

"How much do they represent, 

the whole lot" Facing page 18 

"I beg your pardon, I / was startled" 48 

It seemed a long Jive minutes 136 

Gently rocking with both feet on the ground 168 

"I thank you, Bull, for chasing me into Molly 
Cabot s heart" 1S2 

" He is the image of you" 206 

" The end has come, my Moll" 250 



284494 



AMOS JUDD 

I 

A the station of Bingham Cross Roads 
four passengers got off the train. 
One, a woman with bundles, who 
was evidently familiar with her surroundings, 
walked rapidly away through the hot Septem 
ber sunshine toward the little village in the 
distance. 

The other three stood on the platform and 
looked about, as if taking their bearings. They 
were foreigners of an unfamiliar species. Their 
fellow-passengers in the car had discussed 
them with an interest not entirely free from 
suspicion, and their finally getting out at such 
an unimportant station as Bingham Cross 
Roads caused a surprise which, although rea 
sonably under control, was still too strong for 
concealment. From the windows of the car at 



AMOS JUDD 

least a dozen pairs of eyes were watching 
them. The two men and the little boy who 
composed this group were of dark complexion, 
with clean-cut^ regular features. The oldest, a 
man of sixty years or more, had a military 
bearing, and was, if one could judge from ap 
pearances, a person of authority in his own 
country, wherever that might be. Although 
the younger man seemed to resemble him, it 
was in such a general way that he might be 
either his son or no relation whatever. 

But the little boy had excited a yet greater 
interest than his companions. Although but six 
or seven years old, he comported himself with 
as much dignity and reserve as the gentleman 
with the silver hair. This gave the impression, 
and without apparent intention on his part, 
that he also was an important personage. His 
dark eyes were strikingly beautiful and, like 
those of his seniors, were distinctly foreign in 
design. 

[2] 



AMOS JUDD 

When the train moved away the three trav 
ellers approached the man with one suspender, 
who filled the position of station agent, bag 
gage-master, switchman, telegraph operator 
and freight clerk, and inquired if there was 
a conveyance to the village of Daleford. He 
pointed to a wagon at the farther end of the 
platform; that was the Daleford stage. In an 
swer to further questions they learned that the 
next train back again, toward New York, left 
at six thirty; that Daleford was seven miles 
away; that they could spend an hour in that 
village and catch the train without hurrying. 

The only baggage on the platform consisted 
of two peculiar-looking trunks, or rather boxes, 
which the multifarious official knew to be 
theirs, as no similar articles had ever been 
manufactured in America. They were covered 
with designs laid on in metal, all elaborately 
engraved, and it was not suspected along the 
route that these profuse and tarnished or- 
[3] 



AMOS JUDD 

naments were of solid silver. This luggage 
was strapped behind the stage, two vener 
able horses were awakened and the travellers 
started off. Joe, the driver, a youth with large 
ears and a long neck, soon gave his passengers 
some excellent opportunities to explain them 
selves, which they neglected. Aside from a 
few simple questions about Daleford and Mr. 
Josiah Judd, to whose house they were going, 
the conversation was in a language of which he 
had no knowledge. The first two miles of their 
route lay along the Connecticut valley, after 
which they climbed to higher ground. The boy 
seemed interested in the size of the elms, the 
smell of the tobacco fields, the wild grapes, 
and the various things that any boy might 
notice who had never seen their like before. 
The day was warm, and the road dusty, and 
when they entered Daleford the boy, with the 
old gentleman s arm about him, had been 
asleep for several miles. Coming into the vil- 

[*] 



AMOS JUDD 

lage at one end, they drove down the main 
street, beneath double rows of elms that met 
above their heads in lofty arches, the wide 
common on their right. The strangers ex 
pressed their admiration at the size and beauty 
of these trees. Moreover the cool shade w r as 
restful and refreshing. No signs of human life 
were visible either in the street or about the 
white houses that faced the common, and this 
with the unbroken silence gave an impression 
that the inhabitants, if they existed, were 
either absent or asleep. 

The driver stopped for a moment at the 
post-office which occupied a corner in the only 
store, and gave the mail-bag to the post-mis 
tress, a pale young woman with eye-glasses 
and a wealth of artificial hair ; then, after rum 
bling through the village for half a mile, they 
found themselves again in the country. 

The last house on the right, with its mas 
sive portico of Doric columns, seemingly of 
[5] 



AMOS J UDD 

white marble, had the appearance of a Gre 
cian temple. But these appearances were de 
ceptive, the building being a private residence 
and the material of native pine. 

As they approached this mendacious exte 
rior the little boy said something in the for 
eign language to his companions, whereupon 
they told the driver to stop at the door, as 
Mr. Judd was inside. 

"That ain t Mr. Judd s house," he answered. 
"His is nearly a mile farther on, around that 
hill," and he gave the horses a gentle blow to 
emphasize the information. But the boy re 
peated his statement, whatever it was, and 
the younger man said, with some decision: 

"Mr. Judd is inside. Stop here." 

As the driver drew up before the house he 
remarked, with a sarcastic smile: 

"If Mr. Judd lives here, he s moved in 
since mornin ." 

But the remark made no visible impression. 
[6] 



AMOS JUDD 

They all got out, and while the two men ap 
proached the front door by an old-fashioned 
brick walk, the boy strolled leisurely through 
the grassy yard beside the house. The driver 
was speculating within himself as to what 
kind of a pig-headed notion made them per 
sist in stopping at Deacon Barlow s, when, to 
his surprise, Mr. Judd emerged from a door 
way at the side and advanced w r ith long strides 
toward the diminutive figure in his path. 

Mr. Judd was a man about sixty years of 
age, tall, thin and high-shouldered. His long, 
bony face bore no suggestions of beauty, but 
there was honesty in every line. The black 
clothes which hung loosely upon his figure 
made him seem even taller and thinner than 
he really was. The boy looked him pleasantly 
in the face and, when he had approached suffi 
ciently near, said, in a clear, childish voice, 
slowly and with laborious precision: 

"Josiah Judd, the General Subahdar Divo- 
[7] 



AMOS JUDD 

das Gadi and the Prince Rajanya Kasim Mir 
Dewan Musnud desire to speak with you." 

Mr. Judd stopped short, the bushy eye 
brows rising high in astonishment. His mouth 
opened^ but no sound came forth. The foreign 
appearance of the speaker, his familiar manner 
of addressing one so much older than him 
self, together with a demeanor that showed 
no signs of disrespect, and above all, his allu 
sion to the presence of titled strangers caused 
the American to suspect, for a few seconds, 
that he was the victim of some mental irregu 
larity. He pushed the straw hat from his fore 
head, and looked more carefully. The youth 
ful stranger observed this bewilderment, and 
he was evidently surprised that such a simple 
statement should be received in so peculiar a 
manner. But Mr. Judd recovered his compo 
sure, lowered the bushy eyebrows, and draw 
ing his hand across his mouth as if to get it 
into shape again, asked: 



AMOS JUDD 

"Who did you say wanted to see me, 
sonny?" 

A small hand was ceremoniously waved 
toward the two strangers who were now 
approaching along the Doric portico. Com 
ing up to Mr. Judd they saluted him with a 
stately deference that was seldom witnessed 
in Daleford, and the General handed him 
a letter, asking if he were not Mr. Josiah 
Judd. 

"Yes, sir, that s my name," and as he took 
the letter, returned their salutations politely, 
but in a lesser degree. He was not yet sure 
that the scene was a real one. The letter, 
however, was not only real, but he recognized 
at once the handwriting of his brother Mor 
ton, who had been in India the last dozen 
years. Morton Judd was a successful merchant 
and had enjoyed for some years considerable 
financial and political importance in a certain 
portion of that country. 
[9] 



AMOS JUDD 

DEAR JOSIAH : This letter will be handed 
you by two trustworthy gentlemen 
whose names it is safer not to write. They 
will explain all you wish to know regarding 
the boy they leave in your charge. Please take 
care of this boy at least for a time and treat 
him as your own son. I am writing this at 
short notice and in great haste. You have 
probably read of the revolution here that has 
upset everything. This boy s life, together with 
the lives of many others, depends upon the 
secrecy with which we keep the knowledge of 
his whereabouts from those now in power. 

Will write you more fully of all this in a 
few days. Give my love to Sarah, and I hope 
you are all well. Hannah and I are in excel 
lent health. Your affectionate brother, 

MORTON JUDD. 

P. S. You might give out that the boy is 
an adopted child of mine and call him Amos 
Judd, after father. 

[10] 



AMOS JUDD 

These words threw a needed light on the 
situation. He shook hands w r ith the two visi 
tors and greeted them cordially, then,, ap 
proaching the boy who was absorbed in the 
movements of some turkeys that were stroll 
ing about the yard, he bent over and held out 
his hand, saying, with a pleasant smile: 

e( And you, sir, are very welcome. I think we 
can take good care of you." 

But the child looked inquiringly from the 
hand up to its owner s face. 

"Mr. Judd wishes to take your hand," said 
the General, then adding, by way of explana 
tion, " He never shook hands before. But these 
customs he will soon acquire." The small hand 
was laid in the large one and moved up and 
down after the manner of the country. 

"Don t they shake hands in India?" asked 
Mr. Judd, as if it were something of a joke. 
" How do you let another man know you re 
glad to see him?" 

[H ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Oh, yes, we shake hands sometimes. The 
English taught us that. But it is not usual with 
persons of his rank. It will be easily learned, 
however." 

After a word or two more they took their 
seats in the wagon, the boy at his own request 
getting in front with the driver. They soon 
came in sight of the Judd residence, a large, 
white, square, New England farmhouse of the 
best type, standing on rising ground several 
hundred feet from the road, at the end of a 
long avenue of maples. Clustered about it were 
some magnificent elms. As they entered the 
avenue the driver, whose curiosity could be 
restrained no longer, turned and said to the 
boy: 

"Did you ever see Mr. Judd before?" 

"No." 

"Then how did you know twas him?" 

"By his face." 

He looked down with a sharp glance, but the 






AMOS JUDD 

boy s expression was serious, even melancholy. 

"Ever been in this town before?" 

"No." 

"Did Mr. Judd know you was comin ?" 

"No." 

"Then what in thunder made you s pose he 
was in Deacon Barlow s?" 

"In thunder?" 

"What made you think he was in that 
house?" 

The boy looked off over the landscape and 
hesitated before answering. 

"I knew he was to be there." 

"Oh, then he expected you?" 

"No." 

Joe laughed. "That s sort of mixed, ain t it? 
Mr. Judd was there to meet you when he 
didn t know you were comin . Kinder met you 
by appointment when there was n t any." This 
was said in a sarcastic manner, and he added: 

"You was pretty sot on stoppin and I d like 
[13] 



AMOS JUDD 

to know how you come to be so pop sure he 
was inside." 

The dark eyes looked up at him in gentle 
astonishment. This gave way to a gleam of 
anger, as they detected a mocking expression, 
and the lips parted as if to speak. But there 
seemed to be a change of mind,, for he said 
nothing, looking away toward the distant hills 
in contemptuous silence. The driver, as a free 
and independent American, was irritated by 
this attempted superiority in a foreigner, and 
especially in such a young one, but there was 
no time to retaliate. 

Mrs. Judd, a large, sandy-haired, strong- 
featured woman, gave the guests a cordial wel 
come. The outlandish trunks found their way 
up stairs, instructions were given the driver to 
call in an hour, and Mrs. Judd, with the ser 
vant, hastened preparations for a dinner, as 
the travellers, she learned, had eaten nothing 
since early morning. 

[ I*] 



AMOS JUDD 

When these were going on Mr. Judd and 
the three guests went into the parlor,, which,, 
like many others in New England, was a tri 
umph of severity. Although fanatically clean, 
it possessed the usual stuffy smell that is in 
evitable where fresh air and sunlight are ha 
bitually excluded. There were four windows, 
none of which were open. All the blinds were 
closed. In this dim light, some hair ornaments, 
wax flowers, a marriage certificate and a few 
family photographs of assiduous and unrelent 
ing aspect seemed waiting, in hostile patience, 
until the next funeral or other congenial cere 
mony should disturb their sepulchral peace. 
While the men seated themselves about the 
table, the boy climbed upon a long horse-hair 
sofa, whence he regarded them with a bored 
but dignified patience. The General, before 
seating himself, had taken from his \vaist an 
old-fashioned money-belt, which he laid upon 
the table. From this he extracted a surprising 



AMOS JUDD 

number of gold and silver coins and arranged 
them in little stacks. Mr. Judd s curiosity was 
further increased when he took from other 
portions of the belt a number of English bank 
notes, which he smoothed out and also laid 
before his host. 

"There are twelve thousand pounds in these 
notes/ he said, "and about two thousand in 
sovereigns, with a few hundred in American 
money." 

"Fourteen thousand pounds/ said Mr. Judd, 
making a rough calculation, "that s about sev 
enty thousand dollars." 

The General nodded toward the boy. "It 
belongs to him. Your brother, Mr. Morton 
Judd, perhaps told you we left in great haste, 
and this is all of the available property we 
had time to convert into money. The rest will 
be sent you later. That is, whatever we can 
secure of it." 

Now Mr. Judd had never been fond of re- 
[ 16] 



AMOS JUDD 

sponsibility. It was in fact his chief reason 
for remaining on the farm while his younger 
brother went out into the world for larger 
game. Moreover,, seventy thousand dollars, to 
one brought up as he had been,, seemed an 
absurdly large amount of money to feed and 
clothe a single boy. 

"But what am I to do with it? Save it up 
and give him the interest?" 

"Yes, or whatever you and Mr. Morton 
Judd may decide upon." 

While Mr. Judd was drawing his hand across 
his forehead to smooth out the wrinkles he 
felt were coming,, the General brought forth 
from an inner pocket a small silk bag. Unty 
ing the cord he carefully emptied upon the 
table a handful of precious stones. Mr. Judd 
was no expert in such things, but they were 
certainly very pretty to look at and., moreover, 
they seemed very large. 

" These," continued the General, "are of 
[ I?] 



AMOS JUDD 

considerable value, the rubies particularly, 
which, as you will see, are of unusual size." 

He spoke with enthusiasm, and held up one 
or two of them to the light. Mr. Judd sadly 
acknowledged that they were very handsome, 
and threw a hostile glance at the gleaming, 
many-colored, fiery-eyed mass before him. 
"How much do they represent, the whole 
lot?" 

The General looked inquiringly at his com 
panion. The Prince shook his head. "It is 
impossible to say, but we can give a rough 
estimate." 

Then taking them one by one, rubies, dia 
monds, emeralds, pearls, and sapphires, they 
made a list, putting the value of each in the 
currency of their own country, and figured up 
the total amount in English pounds. 

"As near as it is possible to estimate," said 
the Prince, "their value is about one hundred 
and sixty thousand pounds." 
[18] 



AMOS JUDD 

"One hundred and sixty thousand pounds!" 
exclaimed Mr. Judd. "Eight hundred thou 
sand dollars!" and with a frown he pushed his 
chair from the table. The General misunder 
stood the movement, and said: "But, sir, there 
are few finer jewels in India, or even in the 
world!" 

"Oh, that s all right," said Mr. Judd. "I m 
not doubting their worth. It s only kind of 
sudden," and he drew his hands across his 
eyes, as if to shut out the dazzling mass that 
flashed balefully up at him from the table. 
For a New England farmer, Josiah Judd was 
a prosperous man. In fact he was the richest 
man in Daleford. But if all his earthly posses 
sions were converted into cash they would 
never realize a tenth part of the unwelcome 
treasure that now lay before him. He was, 
therefore, somewhat startled at being deluged, 
as it were, out of a clear sky, with the respon 
sibility of nearly a million dollars. The guests 
[ 19 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

also mentioned some pearls of extraordinary 
value in one of the trunks. 

"Well/ he said,, with an air of resignation, 
"I s pose there s no dodgin it, and I ll have 
to do the best I can till I hear from Morton. 
After the boy goes back to India of course I 
sha n t have the care of it." 

The General glanced toward the sofa to be 
sure he was not overheard, then answered, in 
a low voice: "It will be better for him and 
will save the shedding of blood if he never 
returns." 

But the boy heard nothing in that room. 
He was slumbering peacefully, with his head 
against the high back of the sofa, and his 
spirit, if one could judge from the smile 
upon his lips, was once more in his own land, 
among his own people. Perhaps playing with 
another little boy in an Oriental garden, a 
garden of fountains and gorgeous flowers, of 
queer-shaped plants with heavy foliage, a 
[20] 



AMOS JUDD 

quiet, dreamy garden, where the white walls 
of the palace beside it were supported by in 
numerable columns, with elephants heads for 
capitals: where,, below a marble terrace, the 
broad Ganges shimmered beneath a golden 
sun. 

Maybe the drowsy air of this ancestral gar 
den with its perfume of familiar flowers made 
his sleep more heavy, or was it the thrum of 
gentle fingers upon a mandolin in a distant 
corner of the garden, mingling with a woman s 
voice ? 

Whatever the cause, it produced a shock, 
this being summoned back to America, to 
exile, and to the hair-cloth sofa by the voice 
of Mrs. Judd announcing dinner; for the step 
was long and the change was sudden from the 
princely pleasure garden to the Puritan parlor, 
and every nerve and fibre of his Oriental heart 
revolted at the outrage. There was a war-like 
gleam in the melancholy eyes as he joined 
[ 21 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

the little procession that moved toward the 
dining-room. As they sat at table, the three 
guests with Mrs. Judd, who poured the tea, 
he frowned with hostile eyes upon the steak, 
the boiled potatoes, the large wedge-shaped 
piece of yellow cheese, the pickles, and the 
apple-pie. He was empty and very hungry, but 
he did not eat. He ignored the example of 
the General and the Prince, who drank the 
strong, green tea, and swallowed the saleratus 
biscuits as if their hearts desires at last were 
gratified. He scowled upon Mrs. Judd when 
she tried to learn what he disliked the least. 
But her husband, swaying to and fro in a rock 
ing-chair near the window, had no perception 
of the gathering cloud, and persisted in ques 
tioning his visitors in regard to India, the cus 
toms of the people, and finally of their own 
home life. Mrs. Judd had noticed the black 
eyebrows and restless lips were becoming more 
threatening as the many questions were an- 
[22] 



AMOS JUDD 

swered ; that the two-pronged fork of horn and 
steel was used solely as an offensive weapon to 
stab his potatoes and his pie. 

At last the tempest came. The glass of 
water he had raised with a trembling hand to 
his lips was hurled upon the platter of steak, 
and smashed into a dozen pieces. With a swift 
movement of his arms, as if to clear the deck, 
he pushed the pickles among the potatoes and 
swept his pie upon the floor. Then, after a 
futile effort to push his chair from the table, 
he swung his legs about and let himself down 
from the side. With a face flushed with pas 
sion, he spoke rapidly in a language of w r hich 
no word was familiar to his host or hostess, 
and ended by pointing dramatically at Mr. 
Judd, the little brown finger quivering with 
uncontrollable fury. It appeared to the aston 
ished occupant of the rocking-chair that the 
curse of Allah was being hurled upon the 
house of Judd. Standing for a moment in si- 
[23] 



AMOS JUDD 

lence and glowering upon them all in turn, 
the boy swung about with a defiant gesture, 
stalked through the open door and out of the 
house. 

Josiah Judd, whose heart was already sink 
ing under the responsibility of the crown 
jewels of a kingdom, experienced a sickening 
collapse in the presence of the Oriental thun 
derbolt that had just exploded on his peaceful 
New England hearthstone. His jaw fell, he 
ceased rocking, and turned his eyes in painful 
inquiry upon his guests. 

There was an awkward silence. The General 
and the Prince had risen to their feet as if in 
apology to the hostess, but she had accepted 
the outburst with unruffled calmness. Her 
kind, restful, homely face showed no annoy 
ance. Rising quietly from the table she fol 
lowed the stormy guest and found him around 
in front of the house, sitting upon the granite 
door-step, his chin in his hands, frowning 
[24] 



AMOS JUDD 

fiercely upon the quaint old flower-garden be 
fore him. He got up as she approached and 
stood a few feet away, regarding her with a 
hostile scowl. Seating herself upon the step 
she said, with a pleasant smile: 

"Of course you are tired, sonny, we all 
understand that, and you are unhappy to-day, 
but it won t be for long." 

These assuring words failed of their purpose, 
and he eyed her sidewise, and with suspicion. 
He was too old a bird to be fooled so easily. 
A few sprigs were torn from the box border 
within his reach as if the conversation bored 
him. 

"I had a boy once," continued Mrs. Judd. 
"I understand boys, and know just how you 
feel. We shall be good friends, I m sure." 

After a pause devoted to serious reflection, 
he inquired: 

"Did your boy like you?" 

"Oh, yes." 

[25] 



AMOS JUDD 

He came nearer and stood in front of her. 
Then, slowly and with the precision with 
which he always delivered himself when 
speaking English, he said: 

"My mother was different from you, and 
her clothes were more beautiful, but if one 
boy liked you another might. I might. Would 
you like to see my mother s portrait?" 

Mrs. Judd said she would like very much 
to see it, and he began fumbling about and 
seemed to be tickling himself near the buckle 
of his belt. But, as it proved, he was ascer 
taining the whereabouts of a locket, which 
he finally fished up by means of a gold chain 
about his neck. The chain was of such a 
length that the locket, instead of reposing 
near the heart of the wearer, hung a little 
below the centre of the stomach. When it 
finally emerged above his collar, he placed 
the warm miniature in her hand, saying: 

"That is my mother." 
[26] 



AMOS JUDD 

It was a dark face,, surmounted by a jew 
elled head-dress of a style that Mrs. Judd 
had never seen, even in pictures. After look 
ing more carefully at the miniature and then 
up into the eyes that were watching hers, she 
found the same square forehead and sensitive 
mouth, and the same dark melancholy, heavily 
fringed eyes, by far the most beautiful she 
had ever seen. The picture in her hand was 
a truthful portrait of himself. As she looked 
from the portrait into the face before her she 
felt it was perhaps fortunate this mother was 
ignorant of the changes that already had 
turned the current of his life. With a brown 
hand on each of her knees he w r as looking 
into her eyes w r ith the anxious gaze of a hun 
gry soul, seeking for sympathy, and too proud 
to ask it. But Mrs. Judd understood. She laid 
a hand upon his shoulder with an expression 
upon her honest face that rendered words un 
necessary/ He blinked and swallowed in a 
[ 27 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

mighty effort to suppress what he evidently 
considered an undignified and compromising 
sentiment. But in vain. Sinking upon his 
knees he buried his face in her lap and gave 
way to the most vehement, uncontrollable 
grief. The small frame shook with sobs, while 
her apron grew wet with tears. He took his 
sorrow with the same passionate recklessness 
that characterized his anger at the dinner- 
table. Mrs. Judd rested her hand upon the 
short black hair and tried to summon words 
of solace for a grief that seemed to threaten 
the integrity of his earthly body. She could 
only stroke his head and tell him not to be 
unhappy; that all would end well; that he 
should soon return home. 

In the midst of these efforts the voice of 
Mr. Judd came around the corner calling out 
that the wagon was here. The boy jumped to 
his feet as if he had received a shock. Draw 
ing the sleeve of his jacket across his tear- 
[28] 



AMOS JUDD 

stained face, he summoned an expression of 
severity and indifference that under other 
circumstances would have forced a smile from 
his newly acquired friend. The soldier was 
himself again; the warrior was on parade. As 
they walked together around the house to the 
dining-room, he beside her with a resolute 
step and chin in the air, she wondered what 
manner of training could have taught him at 
the age of seven to suppress all boyish emo 
tions, and put on at will the dignity of a Ro 
man Senator. 

The General and the Prince were awaiting 
them. With many compliments they thanked 
the host and hostess for their hospitality, and 
regretted the necessity that took them away 
in such unfortunate haste; it was a flying trip 
and their absence must not be lengthened by 
an hour, as these were troublous times in 
their part of India. As they moved toward 
the wagon Mrs. Judd held her husband back, 
[29] 



AMOS JUDD 

believing there might be a parting at which 
strangers would not be welcome. But the part 
ing, like all else, was dignified and ceremo 
nious. She could not see the boy s face, for he 
stood with his back toward her, but as far as 
she could judge he also was calm and self-pos 
sessed. She noticed, however, that the Gen 
eral had to swallow, with a sudden gulp, a 
large portion of what appeared to be a care 
fully constructed sentence. 

They drove in silence down the long avenue 
beneath the maples, and the driver, perhaps 
to put them at their ease, said something 
about getting along faster in this light wagon 
than with the stage, but both his passengers 
seemed in a silent mood and made no answer. 
As they turned into the main road the Gen 
eral, who was on the side nearest the house, 
looked back. At the farther end of the avenue 
stood the boy in the same position, still watch 
ing them. The old soldier brought his hand to 

r so i 



AMOS JUDD 

his hat and down again in a military salute 
that was evidently familiar to the little person 
at the farther end of the driveway, for it was 
promptly acknowledged, and although a fare 
well to the last ties between himself and his 
country, was returned with head erect, as from 
one veteran to another. 



[31 ] 



II 

TWENTY years have passed. 
The corner mansion of the Van Koovers 
is ablaze with light. Long rows of carnages 
surmounted by sleepy coachmen extend along 
Madison Avenue and into the neighboring 
street. The temporary awning from the front 
door to the curbstone serves only to shield 
the coming and departing guest from the gaze 
of heaven, for the moon and stars are shining 
brightly, as if they also would like to enter. 
But when the front door opens, which is fre 
quent, it emits a blast of music, taunting and 
defiant, reminding the outside universe of its 
plebeian origin. 

Inside there is a scene of festivity and splen 
dor, of dazzling gayety, of youth and mirth and 
decorous joy. The opulence of the Van Koovers 
is of sanctifying solidity, and when they give a 
ball they do it in a style to be remembered. 
[32 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

The house itself, with its sumptuous furniture, 
its magnificent ceilings and stately dimensions 
is sufficiently impressive in every-day attire, 
but to-night it reminds you of the Arabian 
Tales. The family portraits, the gracious dig 
nity of the host and hostess, the bearing of the 
servants, all speak of pedigree and hereditary 
honors. 

Roses and violets, in lavish profusion, fill 
every corner, are festooned around doors and 
windows, even along the walls and up the 
stairs, their perfume mingling with the music. 
And the music, dreamy yet voluminous, sways 
hither and thither a sea of maidens Avith snowy 
necks and shimmering jewels, floating grace 
fully about in the arms of anxious youths. 
These youths, although unspeakably happy, 
wear upon their faces, as is usual upon such 
occasions, an expression of corroding care. 

As a waltz came to an end, a tall, light- 
haired girl with crimson roses in her dress, 
[33] 



AMOS JUDD 

dropped into a seat. She fanned herself rapidly 
as if to drive away a most becoming color that 
had taken possession of her cheeks. Her 
breath came quickly, the string of pearls upon 
her neck rising and falling as if sharing in the 
general joy. With her long throat, her well- 
poised head, and a certain dignity of uncon 
scious pride she might be described as old- 
fashioned from her resemblance to a favorite 
type in the portraits of a century ago. Perhaps 
her prettiest feature was the low, wide fore 
head about which the hair seemed to advance 
and recede in exceptionally graceful lines. Her 
charm to those who know her but superficially 
was in her voice and manner, in the frankness 
of her eyes, and, above all perhaps, in that all- 
conquering charm, a total absence of self-con 
sciousness. But whatever the reason, no girl 
in the room received more attention. 

Her partner, a sculptor with a bald head 
and a reputation, took the chair beside her. 
[34] 



AMOS JUDD 

As her eyes wandered carelessly about the 
room she inquired, in an indifferent tone: 
"Who is that swarthy youth talking with Julia 
Bancroft?" 

"I don t know. He looks like a foreigner." 
Then he added, with more interest, "But isn t 
he a beauty!" 

"Yes, his features are good." 

"He is an Oriental of some sort, and does n t 
quite harmonize with a claw-hammer coat. He 
should wear an emerald-green nightcap with 
a ruby in the centre, about the size of a hen s 
egg, a yellow dressing-gown and white satin 
trousers, all copiously sprinkled with diamonds." 

She smiled. "Yes, and he might be interest 
ing if he were not quite so handsome ; but here 
he comes!" 

The youth in question, as he came down the 

room and passed them, seemed to be having a 

jolly time with his companion and he failed to 

notice the two people who were discussing 

[35] 



AMOS JUDD 

him. It was a boyish face notwithstanding the 
regular features and square jaw, and at the 
present moment it wore a smile that betrayed 
the most intense amusement. When he was 
well out of hearing, the sculptor exclaimed: 
"He is the most artistic thing I ever saw! The 
lines of his eyes and nose are superb! And 
what a chin! I should like to own him!" 

"You couldn t eat him." 

"No, but I could put him on exhibition at 
five dollars a ticket. Every girl in New York 
would be there; you among them." 

Miss Cabot appeared to consider. "I am not 
so sure. He probably is much less interesting 
than he looks. Handsome males over three 
years of age are the deadliest bores in life; 
sculptors of course excepted." 

"It does seem to be a kind of prosperity the 
human male is unable to support without im 
pairment." Then addressing a blase young man 
lounging wearily by: 

[36] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Horace, do you know who that is talking 
with Miss Bancroft?" 

Horace, a round-shouldered blond whose 
high collar seemed to force his chin, not up 
ward, but outward horizontally, fingered the 
ends of a frail mustache and asked: 

"You mean that pigeon-toed fellow with 
the dark face?" 

Miss Cabot could not help laughing. 
"There s a summing up of your beauty," she 
exclaimed, turning to the sculptor. 

He smiled as he answered: "It is evident 
you are an admirer. But do you know who 
he is?" 

"Yes, I know him." 

"Well, what is it? A Hindu prince, a 
Persian poet, or a simple corsair of the Adri 
atic?" 

"He is a Connecticut farmer." 

"Never!" 

"And his name is Judd Amos Judd." 
[37 J 



AMOS JUDD 

"Oh, dear!" sighed Miss Cabot. "What a 
come down! We hoped he was something 
more unusual than that." 

"Well, he is more unusual than that. He is 
a paralyzer of the female heart. I knew him 
in college. At dances and parties we were 
generally sure to find him tucked away on 
the stairs or out on a porch with the pret 
tiest girl of the ball, and he looked so much 
like an Oriental prince we used to call him 
the Bellehugger of Spoonmore." 

"Disgusting!" 

"But that is a trifling and unimportant de 
tail of his character, Miss Cabot, and conveys 
a cold impression of Mr. Judd s experiences. 
Don Giovanni was a puritanical prig in com 
parison. Then at college he had the bad taste 
to murder a classmate." 

Miss Cabot looked up in horror. 

"But then he had his virtues. He could 
drink more without showing it than any fel- 
[38] 



AMOS JUDD 

low in college, and he was the richest man in 
his class." 

"Oh, come now, Horace," said the sculptor, 
"you are evidently a good friend of his, but 
your desire to do him a good turn may be 
carrying you beyond the limits of how shall 
I say it?" 

"You mean that I am lying." 
"Well, that is the rough idea." 
Horace smiled. "No, I am not lying. It is 
all true," and he passed wearily on. 

It was not many minutes before Molly Cabot 
was again moving over the floor, this time with 
the son of the house. Stephen Van Koover 
was one of those unfortunates whose mental 
outfit qualified him for something better than 
the career of clothes and conversation to which 
he was doomed by the family wealth. 

"This recalls old times. Isn t it three or 
four years since we have danced together?" 
he asked. "Or is it three or four hundred?" 
[39] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Thank you! I am glad you realize what 
you have missed." 

"You do dance like an angel, Miss Molly, 
and it s a sin to squander such talent on me. 
I wish you would try it with Judd; my sisters 
say his dancing is a revelation." 

"Judd, the murderer?" 

"Who told you that?" 

"Horace Bennett." 

"I might have guessed it. Truth and Horace 
were never chums. Judd bears the same rela 
tion to Horace as sunshine to a damp cellar." 

As the music ceased they strolled to a little 
divan at the end of the room. 

"He did kill a man, a classmate, but he had 
the sympathies of his entire class. It was partly 
an accident, anyway." 

"I am glad for his sake, as there seems to 
be a prejudice against murder." 

"This was a little of both. We were having 
a supper, about twenty of us, just before class- 

r 40 1 



AMOS JUDD 

day. After the supper, when we were all a 
trifle hilarious, Slade came up behind Judd 
and poured some wine down his neck. Judd 
faced about; then Slade made a mock apol 
ogy, and added an insulting speech. He was a 
master in that sort of thing, and while doing 
it he emptied his wineglass into Judd s face. 
Now Judd is overweighted with a peculiar 
kind of Oriental pride, and also with an un 
fortunate temper; not a bad temper, but a 
sudden, unreliable, cyclonic affair, that carries 
the owner with it, generally faster than is 
necessary, and sometimes a great deal farther. 
Now Slade knew all this, and as he was an 
all-around athlete and the heavier man, there 
was no doubt in our minds that he meant 
Judd should strike out, and then he would 
have some fun with him. 

"Well, Judd grew as black as a thunder 
cloud, but he kept his temper. His hand shook 
as he wiped his face with his handkerchief 
[41 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

and quietly turned his back upon him. Then 
it was that the other man made the crowning 
error of his life. He was just enough of a bully 
to misunderstand Judd s decent behavior, and 
his contempt was so great for one who could 
accept such an indignity that he kicked him. 
Judd wheeled about, seized him by the throat 
and banged his head against the wall with a 
force and fury that sobered every fellow in 
the room. Close beside them was an open win 
dow reaching to the floor, with a low iron rail 
ing outside. Judd, half lifting him from the 
floor, sent him flying through this window, 
and over the balcony." 

"Gracious! Was he dead from the blows on 
his head?" 

"No, but a blow awaited him outside that 
would have finished an ox. This window was 
about thirteen feet from the ground, and be 
low it stood a granite hitching post. When 
Slade came down like a diver from a boat and 
[42] 



AMOS JUDD 

struck head foremost against the top of this 
post something was sure to suffer, and the 
granite post is there to-day, with no signs of 
injury." 

"How can you speak of it in such a tone!" 
"Well, I am afraid none of us had a deep 
affection for the victim. And then Judd was so 
refreshingly honest ! He said he was glad Slade 
was dead; that the world would be better if 
all such men were out of it, and refused to 
go to the funeral or to wear the usual class 
mourning." 

"Which was in disgustingly bad taste!" 
" Possibly, but uncommonly honest. And then 
it is hardly fair to judge him by our standards. 
He is built of foreign material, and he had 
received something that it was simply not in 
his nature to forgive." 

Their voices were drowned in the music that 
again filled the room. The dance over, they 
sauntered out into the large hall, where Flem- 

r 43 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

ish and Italian tapestries formed an opulent 
harmony with Van Koover portraits. In the air 
of this apartment one breathed the ancestral 
repose that speaks of princely origin. It was 
not intended, however, that this atmosphere 
should recall the founder of the house who, 
but four generations ago, was peddling knick- 
knacks along the Bowery. 

As Miss Cabot was uncomfortably warm and 
suggested a cooler air he led her to the farther 
end of the long hall, beyond the stairs, and 
halted at the entrance of a conservatory. 

"Delicious!" and she inhaled a long breath 
of the fresh, moist air. 

"Wait for me just a moment, and I will 
bring you the glass of water." and he vanished. 

An inviting obscurity pervaded this conser 
vatory, which, like the rest of the Van Koover 
mansion, was spacious and impressive. At the 
farther end, the gloom was picturesquely 
broken by rays of moonlight slanting through 
[44] 



AMOS JUDD 

the lofty windows. The only living occupants 
seemed to be one or two pairs of invisible 
lovers, whose voices were faintly audible above 
the splashing of the little fountain in the cen 
tre. This busy fountain formed a discreet ac 
companiment to the flirtations in the sur 
rounding shrubbery. Stepping to the side of 
the basin, she stood for a moment looking 
down into its diminutive depths. The falling 
water and the distant music formed a soothing 
melody, and a welcome restfulness stole gently 
upon her senses as she inhaled, with the fra 
grance of the tropics, the peace and poetry 
of a summer night. She stood for a moment 
yielding to a gentle enchantment; it seemed 
a different world, apart from the great city 
in which she lived, a world of flowers, and per 
fumes, of fountains and perpetual music; of 
moonlight and of whispering lovers. 

At last, as if waking from a dream, the girl 
raised her head and looked toward the win- 



AMOS JUDD 

dows beyond, where a flood of moonlight illu 
mined deep masses of exotic foliage, repeating 
them in fantastic shadows on the marble floor. 
Walking slowly from the fountain, she lingered 
between the overhanging palms, then stepped 
into the moonbeams, a radiant figure with her 
bare neck and arms and glistening jewels in 
this full white light, against the gloom of the 
conservatory. The diamonds in the crescent 
above her forehead flashed as if quivering into 
life as she stopped and looked up at the 
planet. 

A figure close beside her, that had formed 
part of the surrounding shadow, started back 
with a suddenness that caused her, also, to 
retreat a step and press a hand to her heart. 
It was more from nervousness than fear, as she 
was simply startled. She at once recovered her 
self, ashamed at being taken off her guard, but 
a glance at the man beside her, whose face 
was now also in the light, filled her with a 
[ 46] 



AMOS JUDD 

fresh surprise. It was the Oriental beauty; the 
murderer, Judd, and the intensity of his ex 
pression almost frightened her. His eyes were 
fixed upon her own in speechless wonder, and 
as they moved to the crescent in her hair, then 
back again to her face, they showed both ter 
ror and astonishment. Yet it seemed a look of 
recognition, for he bent eagerly forward, as if 
to make sure he were not mistaken. 

It was all in an instant. Then, with a step 
backward and an inclination of the head, he 
stammered : 

"I beg your pardon. I I was startled. Pray 
forgive me." 

He gave an arm to his companion, a pretty 
girl in pink who, standing behind him, had 
missed the details of the little scene, and they 
walked away among the plants and out of the 
conservatory. 

Later in the evening, as Miss Cabot stood 
near the door of the ball-room, the girl with 
[47] 



AMOS JUDD 

whom she was speaking introduced a friend, 
and she found herself again in the presence 
of the Connecticut farmer, the young man of 
the moonlight. But this time he wore a very 
different expression from that of the conser 
vatory. There was a pleasant smile on the 
dark and somewhat boyish face as he apolo 
gized for the scene among the plants. "I am 
sorry if it annoyed you, but I was startled by 
an unexpected resemblance." 

She looked into his eyes as he spoke, and 
understood why the sculptor should have been 
enthusiastic over such a face. It was of an un 
familiar type, and bore a curious resemblance 
to those she had attributed as a child to the 
heroes of her imagination. The eyes were long, 
dark, and seemed capable of any quantity of 
expression, either good or bad. Miss Cabot was 
uncertain as to whether they pleased her. At 
present they looked somewhat anxiously into 
her own with a touch of misgiving. Neverthe- 
[48 ] 



AMOS J U D D 

less, she felt that he was telling her only a 
portion of the truth. 

"If it is my misfortune to startle unsuspect 
ing guests when I come upon them without 
notice, it is for me to apologize. No," then 
continuing hastily, as he began a protestation: 
"You needn t explain! Do not trouble your 
self to tell me that only the most disturbing- 
types of beauty cause you just that kind of a 
shock." 

"But why not, if it is the truth? Besides, 
as you stepped out into the moonlight you 
were a blinding apparition, all in white, against 
the darkness behind. I have no doubt the 
moon herself was a little startled." 

"You certainly were less happy in conceal 
ing your agitation than the other victim." 

Although his manner was deferential and 
gave indications of a positive but discreetly 
repressed admiration, she felt ill at ease with 
him. It was impossible to forget his repulsive 



AMOS JUDD 

title, and turning partly away she looked over 
the room, and answered: 

" Since you are completely recovered and 
my apology is accepted, I suppose there is 
nothing more to be done." 

As the words were uttered the opening 
strains of a waltz came floating across the 
hall, and he begged that she give him a dance 
in token of absolution. It was easier to grant 
it than to refuse, and in another moment they 
were gliding over the floor. As they moved 
away she experienced a new sensation. This 
partner, while adapting himself to her own 
movements, carried her with a gentle force 
that relieved her of all volition. While, in ef 
fect, borne up and along by the music, she 
was governed by a pressure that was hardly 
perceptible; yet, at a critical instant, when a 
reckless dancer came plunging toward them, 
she felt herself swung lightly from his path, 
to relapse at once into a tranquil security and 

[ so] 



AMOS JUDD 

float peacefully away. This floating with the 
music was so easy, so very drowsy and relax 
ing, that her consciousness almost drifted with 
the rhythm of the waltz. Once, as her eyes 
were uplifted to the gorgeous frieze, the white- 
winged Cupids that a moment before were loll 
ing idly against the blue and gold background 
seemed now to be keeping time with the mu 
sic, swaying and dancing in their irresponsible 
nakedness. 

Miss Cabot w r as surprised when the music 
ceased and at once regretted having danced 
such a length of time with a stranger of un 
savory reputation. As they left the ball-room 
and entered the ancestral hall she was flushed 
and out of breath, endeavoring with one hand 
to replace a lock of hair that had fallen about 
her neck. 

"It s a shame," he muttered. 

"What? That we danced so long?" 

"Oh, no! That it should ever end!" 
[51 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

They looked about for a resting-place, but 
all were occupied. Girls in pink, in white, in 
pale blue, in delicate yellow, in every color 
that was becoming to their individual beauty, 
or to its absence, were clustered about the 
great hall, filling every seat. Around them, 
like bees in a flower garden, hovered men in 
black. 

"There is our chance," he said, pointing to 
the stairs. Upon the first landing, but three 
steps from the floor, there was a semicircular 
recess along whose wall ran a cushioned seat. 
At the entrance, upon a pedestal of Sienna 
marble, sat a Cupid with a finger upon his lips ; 
a bit of ancient sculpture from a Roman tem 
ple. Behind him, within, an inviting gloom 
suggested repose and silence. As they stepped 
upon the tiger-skin that nearly covered the 
landing, Miss Cabot was accosted by a man 
whose thoughtful face brightened up at the 
meeting. When he glanced at her companion 
[ 52] 



AMOS JUDD 

there was a similar welcome, and they called 
each other John and Amos, and appeared to 
be on intimate terms. After a short conversa 
tion he left them and descended into the hall. 
She was puzzled at the friendship of these two 
men, and wondered what there could possibly 
be in common between a promising clergyman 
of exceptional purity of character and this dis 
solute, hot-headed Judd. As they seated them 
selves in the alcove, she said, in a tone of 
surprise : 

"So you and John Harding are friends!" 

He smiled. "Yes; and I lament your as 
tonishment." 

She blushed at her stupid betrayal of the 
thought, while he made no effort to conceal 
his amusement. 

" It may be an unkind thing to say of him, 
but we have been good friends for several 
years." 

Laying her fan in her lap, she devoted both 
[53 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

hands to the wandering lock. "Is that what 
drove him to the church?" 

"No. For that I am not responsible., thank 
Heaven!" 

"Why thank Heaven? Is there any harm in 
being a clergyman?" 

"It depends on the man. In this case it cer 
tainly seems a waste of good material." 

Now, it happened that Molly Cabot s reli 
gious convictions were deeply rooted, and she 
felt a thrill of indignation at this slur upon a 
sacred calling. Of course, it was not surprising 
that a spoiled youth witli a murderous temper 
should prove an atheist and a scoffer, but she 
was irritated, and instinctively took the field 
as the champion of a righteous cause. 

"Then you consider it a waste of good 
material for an honest man to serve the 
church?" 

Her energy surprised him, but he answered, 
pleasantly: "I do not say that. No one is too 
[54] 



AMOS JUDD 

good for any honest work. I only say that a 
man of John Harding s originality and courage 
puts himself in a false position by so doing." 

"I do not see how/ and her eyes were fixed 
upon his own in open hostility. He still smiled 
serenely and met her glance with provoking 
calmness. 

"Well, at present he is young and full of 
enthusiasm,, believing everything, and more 
besides ; but he is only twenty-seven now and 
will do a heap of thinking before he is forty. 
The pathetic part of it is that he binds himself 
to a creed, and the man who can think for 
thirteen years on any subject without modify 
ing his faith ought to be in a museum." 

"Not if it is the true faith." 

"If it is the true faith, there is danger in 
thinking, as he may think away from it; so 
why waste a brain like Harding s?" 

In spite of a certain deference and gentle 
ness of tone with which he uttered these posi- 
[55 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

tive sentiments there was evident enjoyment 
in the shock they created. While he was 
speaking she noticed in the centre of his fore 
head a faint scar about the size of a thimble 
end. It seemed an evanescent mark, only vis 
ible when he turned his face at certain angles 
with the light,, and suggested the thought that 
if all young men of such opinions were marked 
in a similar manner it might serve as a whole 
some warning to unbelievers. 

She looked down at her fan a moment, then 
answered, very quietly: 

"So all clergymen over forty are either hyp 
ocrites or fools. It must be very satisfying to 
entertain a thorough contempt for so large a 
profession." 

"Oh, don t say contempt. Rather an excess 
of sympathy for the unfortunate." 

At that moment Horace Bennett, in ascend 
ing the stairs, stopped for an instant upon the 
landing and stood facing them. His eyes rested 
[56] 



AMOS JUDD 

upon herself and Mr. Judd, then she saw him 
glance at the marble Cupid who, with his fin 
ger to his lips, seemed acting as a sentinel for 
whatever lovers were within. Then he pulled 
the ends of his miserable little mustache, and 
with a half-suppressed smile muttered some 
thing to his companion, and they passed up 
the stairs. The hot blood flew to her cheeks as 
she recalled what he had said earlier in the 
evening of this man beside her: "We were 
sure to find him tucked away on the stairs or 
out on the porch with a girl. So we called him 
the Bellehugger of Spoonmore." 

Never in her life had she felt so degraded, 
so cheapened in her own esteem. Hot, cold, 
with burning cheeks, and tears of mortification 
in her eyes she rose from her seat, pressing 
a handkerchief against her lips, and stepped 
swiftly out upon the landing and down into 
the hall. Mr. Judd followed and inquired anx 
iously if she were ill; could he do anything? 
[57] 



AMOS JUDD 

His solicitude, which was genuine, caused her 
to realize how extraordinary her behavior must 
appear to him. The close air in the alcove, she 
answered coldly, must have affected her. It 
was only a little dizziness. 

To her great relief a young man came hur 
rying up, and exclaimed: 

"I have been looking everywhere for you, 
Miss Cabot! The cotillion is on!" 

A formal nod to Mr. Judd, and she moved 
away with an unuttered prayer that their 
paths in future might be far apart. Her wish 
was granted, at least for that night, for she 
saw him no more at the Van Koovers . 

When she reached home and entered her 
own chamber, the moonlight was streaming 
into the room, and before turning up the 
lights she had the curiosity to stand near 
the window with a hand-glass and study her 
own reflection. Only the usual face was there, 
and as usual, the nose was too short, the chin 
[58] 



AMOS JUDD 

too long, and all the other defects were pres 
ent; but even in the moonlight they seemed 
hardly sufficient to frighten a strong young 
man. 



59] 



Ill 

A FIRST interview with the Hon. J. W. 
Cabot, senior member of the firm of 
Cabot, Hollingsworth & Perry, generally re 
sulted in a belief that this distinguished law 
yer was a severe, unsympathetic man whose 
dignity, under ordinary pressure, was not likely 
to abate. An abundant crop of short gray hair 
covered a square, well-shaped head; a head 
that seemed hard and strong. His forehead, 
his jaw, and his shoulders were also square, 
and they also seemed hard and strong. 

His manner was cold, his voice firm and 
even, and he was never ruffled. The cool gray 
eyes rested calmly upon you as if screening, 
out of consideration for your own fallacious 
knowledge, the profundity of wisdom that re 
posed behind them. His memory seemed in 
fallible. The extent and accuracy of his legal 
knowledge was a perpetual surprise, even to 
F 60 1 



AMOS JUD D 

his partners. For simplifying complex entan 
glements his clearness and rapidity amounted 
to a genius. His fees were colossal. In short,, 
he seemed just the man who would never 
write such a note as this: 

TOWHEAD: 

1 SHALL bring an old friend to dinner to 
night. 

Don t give us rubber olives or shad of last 
year s vintage. He is not a bric-a-brac shop. 

JIMSEY. 

This document was sent to his daughter, 
who since her mother s death, three years 
ago, had managed the household. When a 
child of five she overheard a friend address 
him frequently as Jim, whereupon she ad 
justed a final syllable to render it less formal, 
and ever after continued to use it. 

It was an afternoon in March that this note 
arrived, nearly four months after the ball at 
[61 ] 



AMOS J U I) D 

the Van Koovers , and when, an hour or two 
later, her father presented his old friend, Mr. 
Samuel Fettiplace, she was struck by his enor 
mous frame and by the extraordinary color of 
his face. This color, a blazing, resplendent red, 
not only occupied his nose and cheeks, but 
extended, in quieter tones, over his forehead 
and neck, even to the bald spot upon the top 
of his head. It had every appearance of being 
that expensive decoration that can only be 
procured by a prolonged and conscientious in 
dulgence in the choicest Burgundies. 

His large, round, light-blue eyes were all the 
bluer from their crimson setting. A more honest 
pair she had never seen. These, with his silver 
hair and benevolent forehead, gave the impres 
sion of a pleasantly intemperate bishop. Molly 
Cabot well knew that her father, and especially 
her mother, could never have achieved a warm 
and lasting friendship for one whose habits 
were honestly represented by such compromis 
ing colors. [ 62 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

With old-fashioned courtesy he gave her his 
arm into the dining-room, and as they seated 
themselves at table he said: "You look like 
your mother, Miss Molly, and I am glad of it; 
the same forehead and eyes, and the same kind 
expression. I was afraid when I saw you last 
you were going to look like your father. He 
isn t so bad looking, considering the life he 
has led, but it would be a calamitous thing for 
a well-meaning girl to resemble any lawyer." 

She laughed: "But papa is not as bad as 
he looks, you know." 

"Yes, he is; I have known him longer than 
you have. But there seem to be honors in dis 
honor. During these years that I have been 
trotting about the globe he has been climbing 
higher and higher, until now his legs are dan 
gling from the topmost round. Why, I under 
stand that none but the solidest billionaires and 
the fattest monopolies presume to retain him." 

"I am afraid someone took you for a hay- 
[ 63 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

seed,, Sam,, and has been stuffing you." 

"No, they have not!" exclaimed the daugh 
ter. "Everybody says he is the best lawyer in 
New York. He has refused to be a judge sev 
eral times!" 

"Oh, come,, Molly! Don t make a fool of 
your old father!" 

"Go ahead, Miss Molly," cried Mr. Fetti- 
place. "Don t mind him! I know you are right. 
But I suppose he pays the customary penalty 
for his greatness; slaves day and night, both 
summer and winter, eh?" 

"Yes, he does, and if you have any influ 
ence with him, Mr. Fettiplace, I wish you 
would bring it to bear." 

"I will. He shall do just as you decide." 

"Now, Molly," said Mr. Cabot, "be just. 
Have I not promised to take a three months 
vacation this summer?" 

"Where do you spend the summer?" asked 
Mr. Fettiplace. 

[64] 



AMOS JU DD 

"I don t know yet. We gave up our place 
at the shore two years ago. The salt air does 
not agree with me any too well; and neither 
Molly nor I care for it particularly." 

There was a pause, and the guest felt that 
the wife s death might have saddened the 
pleasant memories in the house by the sea. 
As if struck with an idea, he laid down his 
fork and exclaimed: 

"Why not come to Daleford? There is a 
house all furnished and ready for you! My 
daughter and her husband are going abroad, 
and you could have it until November if you 
wished." 

"Where is that, Sam?" 

"Well," said Mr. Fettiplace, closing his eyes 
in a profound calculation, "I am weak at fig 
ures, but on the map it is north of Hartford 
and about a quarter of an inch below the 
Massachusetts border." 

Mr. Cabot laughed. "I remember you were 
[65 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

always weak at figures. What is it, a fashion 
able resort?" 

"Not at all. If that is what you are after, 
don t think of it." 

"But it is not what we are after," said 
Molly. "We want a quiet place to rest and 
read in." 

"With just enough walking and driving/ 
put in the father, "to induce us to eat and 
sleep a little more than is necessary." 

"Then Daleford is your place/ and the 
huge guest, with his head to one side, rolled 
his light-blue eyes toward Molly. 

"Do tell us about it," she demanded. 

"Well, in the first place Daleford itself is 
a forgotten little village, where nothing was 
ever known to happen. Of course births, mar 
riages, and deaths have occurred there, but 
even those things have always been more un 
eventful than anywhere else. Nothing can 
take place without the whole village knowing 
[ 66] 



AMOS J U D D 

it, and knowing it at once : yet the inhabitants 
are always asleep. No one is ever in sight. If 
you should lock yourself in your own room, 
pull down the curtains and sneeze, say your 
prayers or change a garment at an unaccus 
tomed hour, all Daleford would be comment 
ing on it before you could unlock the door 
and get downstairs again." 

"That sounds inviting," said Mr. Cabot. 
"There is nothing like privacy." 

" I only tell you this so there shall be no de 
ception. But all that does not really concern 
you, as our house is a mile from the village." 
Then he went on to describe its real advan 
tages: the pure air, the hills, the beautiful 
scenery, the restful country life, and when he 
had finished his hearers were much interested 
and thought seriously of going to see it. 

"I notice, Sam, that you make no mention 
of the malaria, rheumatism, or organized bands 
of mosquitoes, drunk with your own blood, 
[67] 



AMOS JUDD 

who haul you from your bed at dead of night. 
Or do you ^ake it for granted we should be 
disappointed without those things?" 

"No, sir. I take it for granted that every 
New Yorker brings those things with him/ 
and again a large china-blue eye was obscured 
by a laborious wink as its mate beamed trium 
phantly upon the daughter. 

There were further questions regarding the 
house, the means of getting there,, and finally 
Molly asked if there were any neighbors. 

"Only one. The others are half a mile 
away." 

"And who is that one?" she asked. 

"That one is Judd, and he is an ideal 
neighbor." 

"Is he a farmer?" 

"Yes, in a way. He raises horses and pups 
and costly cattle." Then, turning to Mr. Cabot. 
"It is the young man I brought into your 
office this morning, Jim." 
[68 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Well, he is too beautiful for the country! 
If I could spend a summer near a face like 
that I shouldn t care what the scenery was." 

"Is his name Amos Judd?" asked Molly. 

"Why, yes. Do you know him?" 

"I think I met him early this winter. His 
reputation is not the best in the world, is it?" 

Mr. Fettiplace seemed embarrassed. He took 
a sip of wine before answering. 

" Perhaps not. There have been stories about 
him, but," and he continued with more than 
his habitual earnestness, "I have a higher 
opinion of him and would trust him farther 
than any young man I know!" 

She felt, nevertheless, that Mr. Judd s repu 
tation might not be a proper subject for a 
young lady to discuss, and she remained si 
lent. But her father was not a young lady, and 
he had heard nothing of the improprieties of 
the young man s career. "What is his particu 
lar line of sin?" he inquired. 
[69] 



AMOS J U D D 

"He has none. At present he is all right; 
but at college, and that was five years ago, I 
am afraid he took a livelier interest in petti 
coats than in the advertised course of study." 

"Of course he did," said Mr. Cabot. "That 
beauty was given him for the delectation of 
other mortals. To conceal it behind a book 
would be opposing the will of his Creator." 

"Poor Amos/ said Mr. Fettiplace with 
a smile, as he slowly shook his head. "His 
beauty is his curse. He regards it as a blight, 
is ashamed of it, and would give a good deal 
to look like other people. Everybody wonders 
who he is and where he came from. As for the 
w r omen, they simply cannot keep their eyes 
away from him." 

"If I were a woman," said Mr. Cabot, in 
a slow, judicial manner, "I should throw my 
arms about his neck and insist upon remaining 
there." 

Mr. Fettiplace chuckled, not only at the 
[70] 



AMOS J U D D 

solemnity of his friend s face during the de 
livery of the speech, but at the contemptuous 
silence with which this and similar utterances 
were received by the daughter. There had 
always been a gentler and more lovable side 
to James Cabot, and he was glad to see that 
success and honors had not destroyed the 
mental friskiness and love of nonsense that 
had been an irresistible charm in former years. 
He was also glad to witness the affection and 
perfect understanding between father and 
daughter. It was evident that from long ex 
perience she w r as always able to sift the wheat 
from the chaff, and was never deceived or 
unnecessarily shocked by anything he might 
choose to say. 

"Well, he will be here soon," said Mr. Fet- 
tiplace, "but as you are only a man, you may 
have to content yourself with sitting in his 
lap." 

"Is Mr. Judd coming here this evening?" 
[71 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

inquired Molly, in a tone that betrayed an 
absence of pleasure at the news. 

Her father looked over in mild surprise. 
"Yes, did I forget to tell you? I asked him 
to dine, but he had another engagement. He 
is to drop in later. And, by the way, Sam, 
where did the young man get that face? No 
line of Connecticut farmers bequeathed such 
an inheritance." 

"No, they did not. Judd s little mystery has 
never been cleared up. I can only repeat the 
common knowledge of Daleford, that the boy 
was brought to this country w r hen he was 
about six years old, and that a few handful s 
of diamonds and rubies came with him. The 
value of this treasure has been exaggerated, 
probably, but with all allowances made it 
must have amounted to more than a million 
dollars." 

"Why!" exclaimed Molly. "It s quite like 
a fairy tale! " 

t 72] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Yes, and the mystery is still agoing. Jo- 
siah Judd, in whose hands he was placed, hap 
pened to be the only person who knew the 
boy s history, and he died without telling it. 
Who the child was or why he was sent here 
no one knows and no one seems likely to dis 
cover. Josiah died about twelve years ago, and 
ever since that time stray clusters of emeralds, 
pearls, and diamonds have been turning up 
in unexpected places about the house. Some 
are hidden away in secretary drawers, others 
folded in bits of paper behind books. They 
have tumbled from the pockets of Josiah s old 
clothes, and a few years ago his widow dis 
covered in one of his ancient slippers an enve 
lope containing something that felt like seeds. 
On the outside was written Amos s things. 
She tore it open and found a dozen or more 
magnificent rubies, rubies such as one never 
sees in this country. They were sold for over 
two hundred thousand dollars." 
[73] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Gracious!" exclaimed Molly,, "what pos 
sessed him to leave them in such places? Was 
he crazy?" 

"On the contrary, he was too wise. Not 
wishing to dispose of them in a lump, he did 
it gradually, and concealed them for greater 
safety in different places, so that no one thief 
could steal them all. Whenever he sold them 
he invested the proceeds in solid securities. No 
one know T s to what extent the old farmhouse 
is still a jewel casket. It is more than likely 
that cracks and corners to-day are hiding their 
precious stones." 

"How mysterious and exciting!" exclaimed 
Molly. "It seems too romantic for practical 
New England." 

"That is just the trouble with it," said her 
father. He leaned back in his chair and con 
tinued, with a smile, "I suspect our guest has 
been reading his Monte Cristo lately, which 
may account for a pardonable exaggeration in 



AMOS JUDD 

a historian who means to be honest. Who told 
you all this, Sam? The Judo s family cat?" 

Mr. Fettiplace drew his hand slowly across 
his forehead and closed his blue eyes, as if 
hesitating for a reply. "There is so much that is 
hard to believe connected with Amos that one 
ought to prepare his audience before talking 
about him. I will tell you one little thing that 
happened to myself, an occurrence not de 
pendent upon other people s credulity. One 
day last autumn, late in the afternoon, I was 
walking along an untravelled road through the 
woods, when I met two little children who 
were playing horse. The front one, the horse, 
wore a garment that looked like a white silk 
overcoat without sleeves. Otherwise the chil 
dren were roughly clad, with battered straw 
hats and bare feet. The overcoat had a curious, 
Oriental cut, and there was a good deal of style 
to it; so much, in fact, and of such a foreign 
flavor, that I stopped to get a better look at 
[75 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

it. The wearer, a boy of eight or ten, I recog 
nized as the son of an unprosperous farmer 
who lived in a dilapidated old house not far 
away. When I asked him where he got his 
jacket he said he wore it at the children s 
tableaux: that he was the prince w r ho awoke 
the sleeping beauty in the town hall last 
night. Then I remembered there had been a 
performance to raise money for the library. 

"While talking with him I noticed there 
were four rows of little pearl-shaped buttons 
around the neck and down the front. They 
formed part of an elaborate design, beautifully 
embroidered in gold and silver thread, old and 
somewhat tarnished, but in excellent pres 
ervation. I asked him what those ornaments 
were, and he answered they were beads. 
But who owns the jacket? I asked: Does 
it belong to you? No, it belonged to Mrs. 
Judd, who had lent it for the performance. 
Then why don t you return it to Mrs. Judd? 
[76] 



AMOS J U D D 

Oh, they were going to return it to-morrow 
morning. I offered to take it, as I was going 
that way, and the jacket was handed over. 

"The more I examined the article, the 
more interested I became, and finally I sat 
down on a rock and made a study of it. I 
found the garment was of white silk and 
completely covered with a most elaborate 
stitching of gold and silver thread. I am no 
expert in precious stones, but I knew those 
beads were either pearls or tremendously 
clever imitations, and when I remembered 
there was a good old-fashioned mystery con 
nected with Amos s arrival in these parts, I 
began to feel that the beads stood a fair 
chance of being more than they pretended. 
I counted a hundred and t\venty of them. 

"When I took the garment to Mrs. Judd 

and told her what I thought, she didn t seem 

at all surprised; simply told me it had been 

lying in a bureau-drawer ever since Amos 

[77] 



AMOS JU DD 

came, about twenty years ago. She is over 
eighty and her memory has gone rapidly the 
last few years, but she closed her eyes, stroked 
her hair, and said she remembered now that 
her husband had told her this jacket was 
worth a good many dollars. And so they 
always kept it locked away in an upstairs 
drawer, but she had forgotten all about that 
when she offered it to the Faxons for their 
performance. Down the front of the jacket 
were large splashes of a dark reddish-brown 
color which she said had always been there, 
and she remembered thinking, as she first laid 
the coat away, that Amos had been in some 
mischief with currant jelly. Amos was away 
just then, but when he returned we took all 
the beads off, and a few days later I showed 
a dozen of them to a New York jeweller who 
said they were not only real pearls, but for 
size and quality he had seldom seen their 

equal." 

[78 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"They must have been tremendously valu 
able/ said Molly. 

"They averaged twelve hundred dollars 
apiece." 

"Gracious!" she exclaimed. "And there 
were a hundred and twenty of them?" 

"Yes; they brought a little more than a 
hundred and forty thousand dollars." 

"It all harmonizes with Judd s appear 
ance/ said Mr. Cabot; "I should not expect 
him to subsist on every-day American divi 
dends. But it s a good jacket, even for fairy 
land." 

"Yes, it certainly is, and yet there was the 
usual touch of economy in it/ Mr. Fettiplace 
continued. "When we came to remove the 
pearls, we found a little gold loop or ring in 
the setting behind each one of them. Those 
loops passed through a sort of circular button 
hole in the garment, and a gold wire, running 
along beneath the silk, held the jewels in 
[79] 



AMOS JUDD 

place, so that by drawing out the wire they 
were all detached." 

"Well, where was the economy in that?" 

"By being adjusted and removed so easily 
they probably served, when occasion required, 
as necklace, belt, bracelets, earrings, diadems, 
or the Lord knows what." 

"Of course," assented Mr. Cabot. "A frugal 
device that might be of service to other farm 
ers. And you began, Sam, by describing Dale- 
ford as an uneventful place. It seems to me 
that Bagdad is nothing to it." 

Mr. Fettiplace sipped his coffee without re 
plying. After a short silence, however, with 
his eyes upon the coffee which he stirred in 
an absent-minded way, he continued: 

"There are one or two other things con 
nected with Judd which are much more diffi 
cult to explain. Daleford is full of mysterious 
tales of supernatural happenings in which he 
is the hero of prophecies and extraordinary 
[ 80] 



AMOS JUDD 

fulfilments ; always incredible, but told in hon 
est faith by practical, hard-headed people. Any 
native will give them to you by the yard, but 
the hero, under no conditions, ever alludes to 
them himself." 

"Which probably proves," said Mr. Cabot, 
"that the hero is the only one to be relied 
on. It is such fun to believe in the incredible! 
That is the charm of miracles, that they are 
impossible." 

The rosy guest turned to the daughter with 
a smile, saying: "And there is nothing like a 
hard-headed old lawyer to drag you back to 
earth." 

"What were these tales, Mr. Fettiplace? 
What did they refer to?" she asked. 

But Mr. Fettiplace evidently felt that he 
had said enough, possibly because a portion 
of his audience was not of encouraging ma 
terial, for he only answered in a general 
way that the stories related to impossible 
[81 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

experiences, and were probably only village 
gossip. 

After dinner they sat around the fire in the 
next room, the two men with their cigars and 
Molly at work over a bit of tapestry represent 
ing the Maid of Orleans on a fat, white horse. 
This horse, according to her father, must have 
belonged to a Liverpool circus, and was loaned 
to Joanna for tapestry only. When Mr. Judd 
appeared Molly felt an augmented interest in 
this hero of the white jacket, but it was against 
both conscience and judgment and in spite of 
a pious resolve to consider him simply as a 
libertine with a murderous temper. That her 
father and Mr. Fettiplace had no such abhor 
rence was evident from their cordial greeting. 

The conversation became general, although 
the burden of it was borne by Mr. Fettiplace, 
who seemed to possess upon every subject 
either some interesting facts or a novel theory. 
Once, when he was telling them something 
[ 82] 



AMOS JUDD 

so amusing that it seemed safe to count upon 
a strict attention from all his hearers, she 
looked over at Mr. Judd and found his eyes 
fixed earnestly upon her face. It was a look 
so serious, of such infinite melancholy that, 
in surprise, her own glance involuntarily lin 
gered for a second. He at once turned his eyes 
in another direction, and she felt angry with 
herself for having given him even so slight a 
testimonial of her interest. Although a trivial 
episode, it served to increase the existing hos 
tility and to strengthen an heroic resolve. This 
resolve was to impress upon him, kindly but 
clearly, the impossibility of a serious respect on 
her part for a person of such unenviable repute. 
Later, when the two older men went up into 
the library to settle some dispute concerning 
a date, he came over and seated himself in a 
chair nearer her own, but also facing the fire. 

"Your ears must have tingled this evening, 
Mr. Judd." 

[ 83 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Ah, has Mr. Fettiplace been giving me 
away?" 

"On the contrary; he is a stanch friend of 
yours." 

"Indeed he is, but it might require an ex 
ceedingly skilful friend to throw a favorable 
light on such a subject." 

"How delightfully modest! I assure you he 
gave you an excellent character." 

"Did you think it a wilful deception, or 
that he was simply mistaken?" 

She turned and saw upon his face an 
amused smile, half triumphant yet good-hu 
mored. She lowered her eyes to the bronze 
ornament on the table that was slowly revolv 
ing between her fingers. "Am I so incapable 
of believing good of others?" 

" Certainly not ! But when I saw you last I 

suffered from an unpleasant belief that neither 

the Devil nor myself were objects of your 

adoration. So I took the liberty of putting one 

[84] 



AMOS JUDD 

or two things together, and decided that the 
faithful Bennett might have honored me by a 
mention." 

"Why suspect Mr. Bennett of such a thing?" 

"Well, partly because he is a vindictive and 
unscrupulous liar, and partly because he is the 
only enemy I saw there." 

This was said gently, in his usual low 
voice, with perfect calmness, and it was said 
amiably, as if sympathizing with an unfortu 
nate friend. 

"You seem able to meet him on his own 
ground." 

"Oh, no! There is all the difference in the 
world." 

She looked toward him interrogatively, but 
with an expression that plainly indicated a dif 
ference of opinion. He continued in the same 
tone, with no sign of animosity: "The differ 
ence is this, that he tells others what he never 
tells me. I tell others his mind is filthy and his 
[8.5] 



AMOS JUDD 

spirit is mean; that he is without honor and 
that he is a liar, but I also tell him." 

"You have told him that?" 

"Often: sometimes to himself alone, some 
times in the presence of others." 

She could not restrain a smile. " It must be 
a pleasant thing to tell a man!" 

"A man? Oh,, that would be a different mat 
ter! " 

There was a barbaric simplicity in all this 
that she could not help respecting,, particularly 
as she felt he was telling the truth: and she 
sympathized with him heartily in this opinion 
of Horace Bennett. While openly unforgiving 
and vindictive, he appeared to regard his 
enemy with the half-serious contempt of a 
gentle but experienced philosopher. But she 
remembered her resolution. 

"Mr. Fettiplace has been telling us about 
that white jacket. What an interesting 
story!" 

[86] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Yes, everything he tells is interesting. He 
has a rare faculty in that direction." 

"But in this case he had an unusual subject. 
It is like a fairy story. I suppose you wore it 
some time or other?" 

"I suppose so." 

"But you must remember." 

"Vaguely. I was only seven years old when 
I came to this country arid I never wore it 
here." 

"Have you even forgotten how you spilled 
the currant jelly down the front?" 

"Currant jelly?" he repeated, and looked 
inquiringly toward her. "I have not heard that 
theory." 

"You were the culprit and ought to know. 
But strawberry is just as bad, I suppose." 

After a slight hesitation he answered, 
"Those are blood-stains." 

Turning toward him for further information, 
she could not help thinking how much more 
[87] 



AMOS JUDD 

he was in harmony with a tale of pearls and 
mystery and human blood than with jam or 
currant jelly. As he made 110 answer but sat 
gazing absently at the fire, she expressed a 
hope that his youthful nose had not collided 
with the stairs or with the fist of some larger 
boy. 

"No, not that exactly/ he replied, with his 
eyes still upon the fire. "It is a long story and 
would not interest you." Then looking up, he 
continued, with more animation, "I am glad 
there is a possibility of your coming to Dale- 
ford. It is an ideal place to be quiet in." 

"So Mr. Fettiplace tells us, but you are 
mistaken about the history of the jacket. It 
would interest me, and I should like extremely 
to hear it; unless of course you prefer not to 
tell it." 

"If you wish to hear it that is reason enough 
for the telling, but isn t it rather cruel to 
force a man to talk only about himself?" 
[88] 



AMOS JUDD 

"No; not in this case. It gives an opportu 
nity to prove, by the perfection of your boy 
hood, that you are less vile than you believe 
Horace Bennett to have painted you." 

"That would be impossible. No human rec 
ord could wipe out an effect once laid in by 
such a hand. Besides, there is nothing in the 
jacket to repair a damaged reputation." 

"The fact of telling the story will count in 
your favor." 

"In that case I will make an effort." He 
rested an elbow on the arm of his chair, slowly 
stroking the back of his head as if uncertain 
where to begin. " It is really a foolish thing to 
do," he said at last, "but if you are relentless 
I suppose there is no escape. In the first place, 
to begin at the very beginning, there was a 
little court with arches all around it, with 
grass in the centre and a fountain at each 
corner. On the marble steps, at one end, we 
were all sitting, a dozen or more children, 



AMOS JUDD 

watching a man with a bear and two mon 
keys. These monkeys had sham fights. One 
was dressed like an English soldier with a 
red jacket, and he always got the worst of it. 
It was great fun and we all laughed." 

"Where was this?" 

"In India. At the very beginning of the 
show, when the English monkey for a mo 
ment was on top, a servant rushed into the 
court and dragged me away. It was a barbar 
ous deed, and I was ugly; as disagreeable prob 
ably as Horace Bennett could have wished. 
So I only lose ground, you see, by telling this 
story." 

"Never mind. Unless you tell it I shall be 
lieve the worst." 

"Well, looking back as I was dragged along, 
the last thing I saw was the red monkey being 
chased and beaten by the white one, and they 
scrambled right up the bear s back. In the 
chamber where we went that white jacket was 
[90] 



AMOS JUDD 

brought out and I made another row, for I 
knew it meant a long and tiresome perform 
ance in w r hich I had to keep still and behave 
myself." 

"A performance on a stage?" 

"No; in a large room, with lots of people 
standing about. As our procession started for 
the big hall, which was several rooms away on 
another side of the house, I noticed that my 
uncle and one or two others kept closer to me 
than usual. There was a tremendous haste and 
confusion, and everybody seemed excited." 

In telling his story Mr. Judd spoke in a low 
voice, pronouncing his words clearly and with 
a certain precision. His only gesture consisted 
in occasionally drawing a hand slowly up the 
back of his head, as if finding solace in rub 
bing the short thick hair in the wrong direc 
tion. Although his voice and manner suggested 
an indolent repose, she noticed that the brown 
hands, with their long fingers, were hard and 
[91 ] 



AMOS J U I) D 

muscular, and were the hands of a nervous 
temperament. 

"When we entered the large hall there 
were lots of people., mostly soldiers,, and in 
uniforms I had not seen before. The principal 
person seemed to be a short,, thick-set man 
with a round face and big eyes, who stood in 
the centre of the room, and his wide sash 
and odd-looking turban with gold scales in 
terested me tremendously. We all stood there 
a few minutes and there was a good deal of 
talk about something, when all of a sudden 
this man with the handsome turban seized 
me under the arms with both hands, lifted me 
up, and handed me to a big chap behind him. 

"Then came a free fight, a general commo 
tion, with shouting and rushing about, and 
sword-blades in the air. A friend tried to pull 
me away, but the big man who held me laid 
his head open with a blow. A second later the 
big man himself received a cut from my uncle 
[92] 



AMOS JUDD 

at the base of his neck, where it joins the 
shoulder,, that made him stagger and turn half 
about: then he tumbled to the floor and held 
me all the tighter as he fell. As we landed 
I came on top, but he rolled over and lay 
across me with his head on my stomach. He 
was so heavy that he held me down and the 
blood poured from his neck over my white 
clothes." 

Molly had stopped working. With her 
hands in her lap and her eyes fixed eagerly 
on his face, she uttered an exclamation of 
horror. He said, with a smile: 

"Not a cheerful story, is it?" 

"It is awful! But what happened then?" 

"Well, as I struggled to get from under 
I saw my uncle turn upon the first man, the 
leader, but he was too late. Someone gave 
him a thrust, and he staggered and came 
down beside us. I remember he lay so near 
that I reached out and touched his cheek 
[93] 



AMOS JUDD 

with my finger. I spoke to him,, but he never 
answered." 

There was a silence, she watching him, 
waiting for the rest of the story, while he 
gazed silently into the fire. 

"And what happened next?" 

"Oh, excuse me! That is about all. Dur 
ing the hubbub and slaughter my people 
hauled me from beneath the big chap and 
I was hurried away. I remember, as we ran 
through the chambers near the little court, 
I heard my friends still laughing at the 
monkeys." 

He seemed to consider the story finished. 
"May I fool with that fire?" he asked. 

"Certainly, but what was all the fighting 
about?" 

As the fire was encouraged into a fresher 

life he answered: "I never knew distinctly. 

That night a few others and myself went 

down to the river, through the gardens, were 

[94] 



AMOS JUDD 

rowed to a little steamer and taken aboard. 
We sailed down a long river,, and afterward 
a big steamer brought three of us to America. 
And then to Daleford." 

"Why on earth to Daleford?" 

"Because it was desirable to land me in 
some amusing metropolis,, and I suppose the 
choice lay between Paris and Daleford. Dale- 
ford,, of course,, won." 

"I beg your pardon/ she hastened to 
say. "My curiosity seems to be running away 
with me." 

"Oh, please do not apologize. There is no 
secret about Daleford. I only answ r ered in 
that w r ay as I suddenly realized ho\v refresh 
ing it must be to hear a stranger tell pathetic 
stories about himself. It is I who apologize. 
They brought me to Daleford through Mr. 
Judd s brother, who was a good friend and 
was w r ith us at that row." 

He stood before the fire with the poker in 
[95] 



AMOS JUDD 

his hand, and looked down with a smile as he 
continued: "I believe you have never been to 
Daleford, but if you were a field-mouse that 
could sleep all winter, and didn t care to be 
disturbed in summer, you would find it an 
ideal spot. If you were a field-mouse of aver 
age social instincts you would never pull 
through." 

"And yet Mr. Fettiplace advises us to go 
there." 

"Oh, that s for a summer only, and is 
quite different." 

From Daleford they went to other sub 
jects, but to her his own career proved of far 
greater interest, and the usual topics seemed 
commonplace and uneventful by comparison. 
Delicately and with subtle tact, she made one 
or two efforts to get further information 
regarding his childhood and the fabulous 
jewels, but her endeavors were vain. Of 
himself he talked no more. In a sense, how- 
[96] 



AMOS JUDD 

ever, she was rewarded by a somewhat sur 
prising discovery in relation to his mental 
furniture. When the conversation turned in 
cidentally upon literature she found him in 
the enjoyment of an ignorance so vast and 
so comprehensive that it caused her, at first, 
to doubt the sincerity of his own self-con 
viction. Of her favorite books he had not 
read one. To him the standard novelists were 
but names. Of their works he knew nothing. 
This ignorance he confessed cheerfully and 
without shame. 

"But what do you do with yourself?" 
she demanded. "Do you never read any 
thing?" 

"Oh, yes; I have not forgotten my letters. 
For modern facts I read the papers, and for 
the other side of life I take poetry. But the 
modern novel is too severe a punishment. It 
is neither poetry nor wisdom." 

Until the two other men came down from 
[97] 



AMOS JUDD 

the library she had no idea of the lateness 
of the hour. Mr. Fettiplace laid a hand on 
the young man s shoulder and, with a roseate 
smile, explained the situation. 

"This fellow is from the country, Miss Molly, 
and you must excuse him for expecting, when 
invited out to dinner, that he is to remain to 
breakfast." 

A moment or two later, as the three men 
were standing before the fire, she was aston 
ished by a bit of unexpected wisdom. He was 
regarding with apparent interest a little etch 
ing that hung near the mantel, when Mr. 
Cabot explained that it was a very old one he 
had purchased in Germany, and represented 
the battle of Hennersdorf. Mr. Judd thought 
it must be the battle of Mollwitz, and gave as 
reasons for his belief the position of the Prus 
sians in relation to a certain hill and the re 
treat of the Austrian cavalry at that stage of 
the fight. Mr. Cabot, obviously surprised at 
[98] 



AMOS JUDD 

these details, replied, jokingly, that he was 
not in a position to contradict a soldier who 

was present at the battle. 


This afforded great amusement to the rubi 
cund guest, who exclaimed : 

"You might as well back right down, Jim! 
Amos is simply a walking cyclopaedia of military 
facts; and not a condensed one either! He can 
give you more reliable details of that battle 
than Frederick himself, and of every other 
battle that has ever been fought, from Rame- 
ses to U. S. Grant. He remembers everything; 
why the victors were victorious and how the 
defeated might have won. I believe he sleeps 
and eats with the great conquerors. You ought 
to see his library. It is a gallery of slaughter, 
containing nothing but records of carnage 
and poetry. Nothing interests him like blood 
and verses. Just think," he continued, turning 
to Molly, "just think of wasting your life in 
the nineteenth century when you feel that 



AMOS JUDD 

you possess a magnificent genius for wholesale 
murder that can never have a show!" 

There was more bantering, especially be 
tween the older men, a promise to visit Dale- 
ford, and the two guests departed. 



100 



IV 

IN April the Cabots took their trip to Dale- 
ford and found it even more inviting than 
Mr. Fettiplace had promised. The spacious 
house among the elms, with its quaint old 
flower-garden, the air, the hills, the restful 
beauty of the country, were temptations not to 
be resisted, and within another month they 
were comfortably adjusted and felt at home. 

The house, which had formerly belonged to 
Mr. Morton Judd, stood several hundred feet 
from the road at the end of an avenue of wide- 
spreading maples. This avenue was the con 
tinuation of another and a similar avenue ex 
tending to the house of Josiah Judd, directly 
opposite, and the same distance from the high 
way. As you stood at either end it was an un 
broken arch from one residence to the other. 
When Mr. Morton Judd was married, some fifty 
years ago, his father had erected this abode 



AM OS J U D D 

for him, but the young man soon after went 
to India, where as a merchant and a financier 
he achieved success, and where both he and 
his wife now lay at rest. Although covering 
as much ground, the house was less imposing 
than the more venerable mansion at the other 
end of the avenue. 

The journey beneath the maples proved 
such a pleasant one and was so easily made 
as to invite a certain familiarity of intercourse 
that the Cabots saw no good reason to discour 
age. Mrs. Judd, a strong-framed woman with a 
heavy chin, whose failing memory seemed her 
only weakness, was now about eighty years of 
age, and generally sat by a sunny window in 
the big dining-room, where she rocked and 
knitted from morning till night, paying little 
attention to what went on about her. If Amos 
had been her own son she could not have 
loved him more, and this affection was re 
turned in full with an unceasing thoughtful- 
[ 108 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

ness and care. Both Molly and her father were 
gratified at finding in this young man a neigh 
bor whose society it seemed safe to encourage. 
He proved a sensible, unpretending person, 
fond of fun and pleasure, but with plenty of 
convictions; these convictions, however, while 
a source of amusement to Mr. Cabot, were not 
always accepted by the daughter. They were 
often startling departures from his education 
and environment, and showed little respect for 
conventionalities. He never attended church, 
but owned a pew in each of the five temples 
at Daleford, and to each of these societies he 
w r as a constant and liberal contributor. For 
three of them he had given parsonages that 
were ornaments to the village, and as the sec 
tarian spirit in that locality was alive and hot 
these generous gifts had produced alternat 
ing outbursts of thankfulness and rage, all of 
which apparently caused neither surprise nor 
annoyance to the young philosopher. When 



AMOS JUDD 

Molly Cabot told him, after learning this, that 
it would indicate a more serious Christian 
spirit if he paid for but a single pew and sat 
in it, he answered: 

"But that spirit is just the evil I try to es 
cape, for your good Christian is a hot sectarian. 
It is the one thing in his religion he will fight 
and die for, and it seems to me the one thing 
he ought to be ashamed of. If any one sect is 
right and the others wrong it is all a hideous 
joke on the majority, and a proper respect for 
the Creator prevents my believing in any such 
favoritism." 

Occasionally the memory of his offensive 
title obtruded itself as a bar to that confi 
dence which is the foundation of friendship, 
but as she knew him better it became more 
difficult to believe that he could ever have 
been, in its coarser sense, what that title sig 
nified. As regarded herself, there was never 
on his part the faintest suggestion of anything 
[ 104 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

that could be interpreted as love-making, or 
even as the mildest attempt at a flirtation. 
She found him under all conditions simple 
and unassuming, and, she was forced to ad 
mit, with no visible tokens of that personal 
vanity with which she had so lavishly en 
dowed him. His serious business in life was 
the management of the Judd farm, and al 
though the care and development of his ani 
mals was more of a recreation than a rigid 
necessity he wasted little money in unsuc 
cessful experiments. Mr. Cabot soon discov 
ered that he was far more practical and busi 
ness-like than his leisurely manners seemed 
to indicate. The fondness for animals that 
seemed one of his strongest characteristics 
was more an innate affection than a breeder s 
fancy. Every animal 011 his place, from the 
thoroughbred horses to the last litter of pups, 
he regarded more as personal friends than as 
objects of commercial value. 
[ 105 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

When Mr. Cabot and Molly made their first 
visit to the farm, they noticed in the corner 
of a field a number of dejected horses huddled 
solemnly together. Most of them were well 
beyond middle age and bore the clearest in 
dications of a future that was devoid of prom 
ise. They gazed at the visitors with listless 
eyes, and as a congregation seemed burdened 
with most of the physical imperfections of ex 
treme antiquity. 

"What on earth are those?" asked Mr. 
Cabot. "Revolutionary relics? They are too 
fat for invalids." 

"A few friends of my youth." 

"I should think from the number you 
have here that you never disposed of your 
old friends/ said Mr. Cabot. 

"Only when life is a burden." 

"Well, I am glad to see them/ said Molly, 
as she patted one or two of the noses that 
were thrust toward her. "It does you credit. 
[ 106] 



AMOS J U D D 

I think it is horrid to sell a horse that has 
used himself up in your service." 

As the father and daughter walked home 
ward along the avenue of maples,, Mr. Cabot 
spoke of the pleasure the young man derived 
from his animals, and the good sense he dis 
played in the management of his farm. 

"Yes/ said Molly, "and he seems too boy 
ish and full of fun for anything very weird 
or uncanny. But Mr. Fettiplace certainly be 
lieved in something of that kind, didn t he?" 

"Of course, or he would n t be Fettiplace. 
That sort of thing is always interesting, and 
the world is full of people who can believe 
anything if they once put their minds on it. 
Who is that in our yard?" 

"Deacon White, I think. He has come to 
train up some plants for me." A moment later 
she took her father s arm and asked, with af 
fected humility: "Jinisey, will you do some 
thing?" 

r 107 1 



AMOS JUDD 

"No, for it s sure to be foolish." 

"Well, you are right, but you can do it so 
much better than I. Deacon White has prob 
ably known Mr. Judd ever since he was a little 
boy, and he would be glad of an opportunity 
to tell what he knows and give us all the 
town talk besides. I do wish you would just 
start him off." 

"Start him off! On what? Judd s private 
history? On the delicate matters he doesn t 
wish advertised?" 

"No, not Of course not, papa! How un 
pleasant you are! I only want him to throw 
some light on the mysterious things Mr. Fetti- 
place alluded to." 

"I shall do nothing of the kind. If you 
really have a thirst for that sort of knowl 
edge, get a copy of Hans Andersen. He has 
a better style than Deacon White." 

A few moments later, when Molly and the 
Deacon were alone in the old garden, her de- 
[ 108 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

sire for information was gratified to an un 
hoped-for extent, and the information was 
of a more detailed and astonishing character 
than she would have presumed to ask for. 
The Deacon, a little, round-shouldered, nar 
row-chested man of seventy, with a sun-dried 
face, an enormous nose, and a long receding 
chin with a white beard beneath, possessed 
a pair of wide-awake eyes that seemed many 
years younger than himself. 

"I never have anything to do with roses 
without thinkin of Amos. Did you ever no 
tice his?" 

"Yes; they are splendid ones." 

" Ain t they! Well, one mornin , when he 
was a little boy, I was helpin him set out 
roses along the side of the house w r here the 
big trellis is, and he said he wanted red ones, 
not yellow ones. I said: These are red ones. 
They are cut from the same slip as the others, 
and they ve got to be red whether they want 
[ 109 ] 



AMOS J U D D 

to or not. Pretty soon Josiah came out, and 
Amos said to him that he could see em next 
spring and they would all be yellow. And 
what took me all aback was that Josiah be 
lieved it, and tried to persuade him that he 
might like yellow ones for a change. And I 
tell you/ said the Deacon,, as he fixed his 
little young eyes on her face to watch his 
effect, "I just stood with my mouth open one 
mornin , a year after, when I saw those roses, 
that oughter been red, just come out into a 
yeller. Of course it was a mistake in the 
bushes, but how did he know?" 

"It might have been a coincidence." 
"Yes, it might have been a coincidence. 
But when a boy s life is made up of just those 
things you begin to suspect after a while that 
perhaps they are too everlastingly reliable for 
coincidences. You can t always bet on coinci 
dences, but you can bet every time on Amos. 
My daughter Phoebe kept school down in the 



AMOS JUDD 

village for a spell when Amos was about ten 
years old. There was another boy., Billy Hines,, 
who never missed a lesson. Phoebe knew he 
was a dull boy and that he always tried to 
give larniii the whole road whenever he saw 
it comin , and it kinder surprised her to have 
him stand at the head of his class all the time 
and make better recitations than smarter boys 
who worked hard. But he always knew T every 
thing and never missed a question. He and 
Amos were great friends, more because Amos 
felt sorry for him, I guess, than anything else. 
Billy used to stand up and shine every day, 
when she knew mighty w^ell he was the slow 
est chap in the whole school and hadn t stud 
ied his lessons neither. Well, one day Amos 
got hove about twenty feet by a colt he was 
tryin to ride and he stayed in bed a few 
weeks. Durin that time Billy Hines couldn t 
answer a question. Not a question. He and 
arithmetic were strangers. Also geography, 



AMOS J UDD 

history, and everything else that he d been 
intimate with. He jest stopped shinin , like a 
candle with a stopper on it. The amount of it 
was she found that Amos had always told him 
ahead the questions he was goin to be asked,, 
and Billy learned the answers just before he 
stood up to recite." 

"Why, how did Amos how did Mr. Judd 
know what questions would be asked?" 

"I guess twas just a series of coincidences 
that happened to last all winter." 

Molly laughed. " How unforgiving you are, 
Mr. White! But did Amos Judd explain it?" 

"He didn t. He was too young then to do it 
to anybody s satisfaction, and now that he s 
older he won t." 

"Why not?" 

"Well, he s kind of sensitive about it. Never 
talks of those things, and don t like to have 
other folks." 

Molly stood looking over toward the Judd 
[112] 



AMOS JUDD 

house, wondering how much of the Deacon s 
tale was truth, and how much was village gos 
sip exaggerated by repetition. 

"Did you ever hear about Josiah s death?" 

Molly shook her head. 

" Twas to him that Amos was fetched from 
India. One mornin Josiah and I were standin 
in the doorway of his barn talkin . The old 
barn used to be closer to the house, but Amos 
tore it down after he built that big new one. 
Josiah and I stood in the doorway talkin about 
a new yoke of oxen; nothin excitin , for there 
was n t any cause for it. We stood in the door 
way, both facin out, when Josiah, without 
givin any notice, sort of pitched forward and 
fell face down in the snow. I turned him over 
and tried to lift him up, but when I saw his 
face I w r as scared. Just at that particular min 
ute the doctor, with Amos sittin in the sleigh 
beside him, drove into the avenue and hurried 
along as if he knew there was trouble. We 



AMOS JUDD 

carried Josiah into the house, but t wa n t any 
use. He was dead before we got him there. 
It was heart disease. At the funeral I said to 
the doctor it was lucky he happened along- 
just then, even if he couldn t save him, and 
I found there was no happen about it; that 
Amos had run to his house just as he was start 
ing off somewheres else, and told him Josiah 
was dyin and to get there as fast as he could." 

" That s very strange," Molly said, in a low 
voice. She had listened to this story with a 
feeling of awe, for she believed the Deacon to 
be a truthful man, and this was an experience 
of his own. "This mysterious faculty," she said, 
"whatever it was, did he realize it fully him 
self?" 

"I guess he did!" and the Deacon chuckled 
as he went on with his work. " And he used to 
play tricks with it. I tell you he was a handful." 

"Did you say he lost it as he grew up?" 

The Deacon turned about and answered, in 
[114] 



AMOS J U D D 

a serious tone: "No. But he wants folks to 
think so. All the same, there s something be 
tween Amos and the Almighty that the rest 
of us ain t into." 

One Monday morning, toward the last of 
June, Molly left Daleford for a two weeks 
visit at the seashore. Her absence caused a 
void that extended from the Cabot household 
over to the big white mansion at the further 
end of the maples. This emptiness and desola 
tion drove the young man to frequent visits 
upon Mr. Cabot, who, in his turn, found a 
pleasant relief in the companionship of his 
neighbor, and he had no suspicion of the sol 
ace this visitor derived from sitting upon the 
piazza so lately honored by the absent girl. 
The eminent lawyer was not aware that he 
himself, apart from all personal merit, was the 
object of an ardent affection from his relation 
ship to his own daughter. For the first twenty- 
four hours the two disconsolates kept in their 
[ "3 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

own preserves to a reasonable extent, but on 
Tuesday they took a fishing trip, followed in 
the evening by a long talk on the Cabot piazza. 
During this conversation the lawyer realized 
more fully than ever the courageous ignorance 
of his neighbor in all matters that had failed 
to interest him. On the other hand, he was 
impressed by the young man s clear, compre 
hensive, and detailed knowledge upon certain 
unfamiliar subjects. In spite of his college edu 
cation and a very considerable knowledge of 
the world he was, mentally, something of a 
spoiled child; yet from his good sense, origi 
nality, and moral courage he was always inter 
esting. 

Wednesday, the third day, brought a north 
east gale that swept the hills and valleys of 
Daleford with a drenching rain. Trees, bushes, 
flowers, and blades of grass dripping with 
water, bent and quivered before the wind. Mr. 
Cabot spent the morning among his books 
[116] 



AMOS JUDD 

and papers,, writing letters and doing some 
work which the pleasant weather had caused 
him to defer. For such labors this day seemed 
especially designed. In the afternoon, about two 
o clock, he stood looking out upon the storm 
from his library window, which was at the cor 
ner of the house and commanded the long 
avenue toward the road. The tempest seemed 
to rage more viciously than ever. Bounding 
across the country in sheets of blinding rain, 
it beat savagely against the glass, then poured 
in unceasing torrents down the w T indow-panes. 
The ground was soaked and spongy with tem 
pestuous little puddles in every hollow of the 
surface. In the distance, under the tossing 
maples, he espied a figure coming along the 
driveway in a waterproof and rubber boots. 
He recognized Amos, his head to one side to 
keep his hat on, gently trotting before the 
gale, as the mighty force against his back ren 
dered a certain degree of speed perfunctory. 



AMOS JUDD 

Mr. Cabot had begun to weary of solitude, and 
saw with satisfaction that Amos crossed the 
road and continued along the avenue. Beneath 
his waterproof was something large and bulg 
ing, of which he seemed very careful. With a 
smiling salutation he splashed by the window 
toward the side door, laid off his outer coat and 
wiped his ponderous boots in the hall, then 
came into the library bearing an enormous 
bunch of magnificent yellow roses. Mr. Cabot 
recognized them as coming from a bush in 
which its owner took the greatest pride, and 
in a moment their fragrance filled the room. 
"What beauties!" he exclaimed. "But are 
you sure they are for me?" 

"If she decides to give them to you, sir." 
"She? Who? Bridget or Maggie?" 
"Neither. They belong to the lady who is 
now absent; whose soul is the Flower of Truth, 
and whose beauty is the Glory of the Morn 
ing." Then he added, with a gesture of hu- 



AMOS JUDD 

mility, "That is, of course, if she will deign 
to accept them." 

"But, my well-meaning young friend, were 
you gifted with less poetry and more experi 
ence you would know that these roses will be 
faded and decaying memories long before the 
recipient returns. And you a farmer!" 

Amos looked at the clock. "You seem to 
have precious little confidence in my flowers, 
sir. They are good for three hours, I think." 

"Three hours! Yes, but to-day is Wednes 
day and it is many times three hours before 
next Monday afternoon." 

A look of such complete surprise came 
into Amos s face that Mr. Cabot smiled as he 
asked, "Didn t you know her visit was to last 
a fortnight?" 

The young man made no answer to this, 

but looked first at his questioner and then at 

his roses with an air that struck Mr. Cabot at 

the moment as one of embarrassment. As he 

[ "9] 



AMOS JUDD 

recalled it afterward, however, he gave it a dif 
ferent significance. With his eyes still on the 
flowers Amos, in a lower voice, said, <e Don t 
you know that she is coming to-day?" 

"No. Do you?" 

The idea of a secret correspondence between 
these two was not a pleasant surprise; and the 
fact that he had been successfully kept in igno 
rance of an event of such importance irritated 
him more than he cared to show. He asked, 
somewhat dryly: "Have you heard from her?" 

"No, sir, not a word," and as their eyes 
met Mr. Cabot felt it was a truthful answer. 

"Then why do you think she is coming?" 

Amos looked at the clock and then at his 
watch. "Has no one gone to the station for 
her?" 

"No one," replied Mr. Cabot, as he turned 
away and seated himself at his desk. "Why 
should they?" 

Then, in a tone which struck its hearer as 



AMOS JUDD 

being somewhat more melancholy than the sit 
uation demanded, the young man replied: "I 
will explain all this to-morrow, or whenever 
you wish, Mr. Cabot. It is a long story,, but if 
she does come to-day she will be at the station 
in about fifty minutes. You know what sort of a 
vehicle the stage is. May I drive over for her?" 

" Certainly, if you wish." 

The young man lingered a moment as if 
there was something more he wished to add, 
but left the room without saying it. A min 
ute later he was running as fast as the gale 
would let him along the avenue toward his 
own house, and in a very short time Mr. Cabot 
saw a pair of horses with a covered buggy, its 
leather apron well up in front, come dashing 
down the avenue from the opposite house. 
Amid fountains of mud the little horses 
wheeled into the road, trotted swiftly toward 
the village and out of sight. 

An hour and a half later the same horses, 



AMOS JUDD 

bespattered and dripping, drew up at the door. 
Amos got out first, and holding the reins with 
one hand, assisted Molly with the other. From 
the expression on the two faces it was evident 
their cheerfulness was more than a match for 
the fiercest weather. Mr. Cabot might perhaps 
have been ashamed to confess it, but his was 
a state of mind in which this excess of felicity 
annoyed him. He felt a touch of resentment 
that another, however youthful and attractive, 
should have been taken into her confidence, 
while he was not even notified of her arrival. 
But she received a hearty welcome, and her 
impulsive, joyful embrace almost restored him 
to a normal condition. 

A few minutes later they were sitting in 
the library, she upon his lap recounting the 
events that caused her unexpected return. 
Ned Elliott was quite ill when she got there, 
and last night the doctor pronounced it ty 
phoid fever; that of course upset the whole 
[ 122 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

house, and she, knowing her room was needed, 
decided during the night to come home this 
morning. Such was the substance of the nar 
rative, but told in many words, with every 
detail that occurred to her, and with frequent 
ramifications; for the busy lawyer had always 
made a point of taking a very serious interest 
in whatever his only child saw fit to tell him. 
And this had resulted in an intimacy and a 
reliance upon each other which was very dear 
to both. As Molly was telling her story Maggie 
came in from the kitchen and handed her fa 
ther a telegram, saying Joe had just brought 
it from the post-office. Mr. Cabot felt for his 
glasses and then remembered they were over 
on his desk. So Molly tore it open and read 
the message aloud. 

HON. JAMES CABOT, DALEFORD, CONN. 

I leave for home this afternoon by the one-forty 

train. 

MARY CABOT. 

[ 123 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Why, papa, it is my telegram ! How slow 
it has been!" 

"When did you send it?" 

"I gave it to Sam Elliott about nine o clock 
this morning, and it wouldn t be like him to 
forget it." 

"No, and probably he did not forget it. It 
only waited at the Bingham station a few 
hours to get its breath before starting on a 
six-mile walk." 

But he was glad to know she had sent the 
message. Suddenly she wheeled about on his 
knee and inserted her fingers betv/een his col 
lar and his neck, an old trick of her childhood 
and still employed when the closest attention 
was required. "But how did you know I was 
coming ? " 

"I did not." 

"But you sent for me." 

"No, Amos went for you of his own ac 
cord." 



AMOS JUDD 

"Well, how did he know I was coming?" 
Mr. Cabot raised his eyebrow r s. "I have no 
idea, unless you sent him word." 

" Of course I did n t send him word. What 
an idea ! Why don t you tell me how you 
knew?" and the honest eyes were fixed upon 
his own in stern disapproval. He smiled and 
said it was evidently a mysterious case; that 
she must cross-examine the prophet. He then 
told her of the roses and of his interview with 
Amos. She was mystified,, and also a little ex 
cited as she recalled the stories of Deacon 
White, but knowing her father would only 
laugh at them, contented herself with exact 
ing the promise of an immediate explanation 
from Mr. Judd. 



[ 125] 



EARLY in the evening the young man ap 
peared. He found Mr. Cabot and Molly 
sitting before a cheerful fire, an agreeable con 
trast to the howling elements without. She 
thanked him for the roses, expressing her ad 
miration for their uncommon beauty. 

With a grave salutation he answered, "I 
told them, one morning, when they were little 
buds, that if they surpassed all previous roses 
there was a chance of being accepted by the 
Dispenser of Sunshine who dwells across the 
way; and this is the result of their efforts." 

"The results are superb, and I am grate- 
fill" 

" There is no question of their beauty," said 
Mr. Cabot, " and they appear to possess a 
knowledge of coming events that must be of 
value at times." 

"It was not from the roses I got my infor- 
[126] 



AMOS JUDD 

mation, sir. But I will tell you about that now., 
if you wish." 

"Well, take a cigar and clear up the mys 
tery." 

It seemed a winter s evening, as the three 
sat before the fire, the older man in the cen 
tre, the younger people on either side, facing 
each other. Mr. Cabot crossed his legs, and 
laying his magazine face downward upon his 
lap, said, "I confess I shall be glad to have the 
puzzle solved, as it is a little deep for me ex 
cept on the theory that you are skilful liars. 
Molly I know to be unpractised in that art, 
but as for you, Amos, I can only guess what 
you may conceal under a truthful exterior." 

Amos smiled. "It is something to look hon 
est, and I am glad you can say even that." 
Then, after a pause, he leaned back in his 
chair and, in a voice at first a little con 
strained, thus began : 

"As long ago as I can remember I used to 
[ 127 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

imagine things that were to happen, all sorts 
of scenes and events that might possibly oc 
cur,, as most children do,, I suppose. But these 
scenes, or imaginings, were of two kinds : those 
that required a little effort of my own, and 
another kind that came with no effort what 
ever. These last were the most usual, and were 
sometimes of use as they always came true. 
That is, they never failed to occur just as I 
had seen them. While a child this did not sur 
prise me, as I supposed all the rest of the 
world were just like myself." 

At this point Amos looked over toward 
Molly and added, with a faint smile, "I know 
just what your father is thinking. He is re 
gretting that an otherwise healthy young man 
should develop such lamentable symptoms." 

"Not at all," said Mr. Cabot. "It is very 
interesting. Go on." 

She felt annoyed by her father s calmness. 
Here was the most extraordinary, the most 
[ 128 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

marvellous thing she had ever encountered, 
and yet he behaved as if it were a common 
place experience of every-day life. And he 
must know that Amos was telling the truth! 
But Amos himself showed no signs of annoy 
ance. 

"As I grew older and discovered gradually 
that none of my friends had this faculty, and 
that people looked upon it as something un 
canny and supernatural, I learned to keep it to 
myself. I became almost ashamed of the pecu 
liarity and tried by disuse to outgrow it, but 
such a power is too useful a thing to ignore al 
together, and there are times when the temp 
tation is hard to resist. That was the case this 
afternoon. I expected a friend who was to tele 
graph me if unable to come, and at half-past 
two no message had arrived : but being familiar 
with the customs of the Daleford office I knew 
there might be a dozen telegrams and I get 
none the wiser. So, not wishing to drive twelve 
[ 129 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

miles for nothing in such a storm, I yielded 
to the old temptation and put myself ahead 
in spirit of course and saw the train as it 
arrived. You can imagine my surprise when 
the first person to get off was Miss Molly 
Cabot." 

Her eyes were glowing with excitement. Re 
pressing an exclamation of wonder, she turned 
toward her father and was astonished, and 
gently indignant, to find him in the placid 
enjoyment of his cigar, showing no surprise. 
Then she asked of Amos, almost in a whisper, 
for her throat seemed very dry, "What time 
was it when you saw this?" 

"About half-past two." 

"And the train got in at four." 

"Yes, about four." 

"You saw what occurred on the platform as 
if you were there in person?" Mr. Cabot in 
quired. 

<f Yes, sir. The conductor helped her out and 
[ 130] 



AMOS JUDD 

she started to run into the station to get out 
of the rain." 

"Yes, yes!" from Molly. 

"But the wind twisted you about and blew 
you against him. And you both stuck there for 
a second." 

She laughed nervously: "Yes, that is just 
what happened!" 

"But I am surprised, Amos/ put in Mr. 
Cabot, "that you should have had so little 
sympathy for a tempest-tossed lady as to fail 
to observe there was no carriage." 

"I took it for granted you had sent for 
her." 

"But you saw there was none at the sta 
tion." 

"There might have been several and I not 
see them." 

"Then your vision was limited to a certain 
spot?" 

"Yes, sir, in a way, for I could only see as if 
[131] 



AMOS J UDD 

I were there in person, and I did not move 
around to the other side of the station." 

"Didn t you take notice as you approached?" 

Amos drew a hand up the back of his head 
and hesitated before answering. "I closed my 
eyes at home with a wish to be at the station 
as the train came in, and I found myself there 
without approaching it from any particular 
direction." 

"And if you had looked down the road," 
Mr. Cabot continued, after a pause, "you 
would have seen yourself approaching in a 
buggy?" 

"Yes, probably." 

"And from the buggy you might almost 
have seen what you have just described." This 
was said so calmly and pleasantly that Molly, 
for an instant, did not catch its full meaning; 
then her eyes, in disappointment, turned to 
Amos. She thought there was a flush on the 
dark face, and something resembling anger as 
[ 132 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

the eyes turned toward her father. But Mr. 
Cabot was watching the smoke as it curled 
from his lips. After a very short pause Amos 
said, quietly, "It had not occurred to me that 
my statement could place me in such an un 
fortunate position." 

"Not at all unfortunate," and Mr. Cabot 
raised a hand in protest. " I know you too well, 
Amos, to doubt your sincerity. The worst I can 
possibly believe is that you yourself are mis 
led: that you are perhaps attaching a false sig 
nificance to a series of events that might be 
explained in another way." 

Amos arose and stood facing them with his 
back against the mantel. "You are much too 
clever for me, Mr. Cabot. I hardly thought you 
could accept this explanation, but I have told 
you nothing but the truth." 

"My dear boy, do not think for a moment 
that I doubt your honesty. Older men than 
you, and harder-headed ones, have digested 
[ 133 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

more incredible things. In telling your story 
you ask me to believe what I consider impos 
sible. There is no well-authenticated case on 
record of such a faculty. It would interfere 
with the workings of nature. Future events 
could not arrange themselves with any confi 
dence in your vicinity, and all history that is 
to come, and even the elements, would be com 
pelled to adjust themselves according to your 
predictions." 

"But, papa, you yourself had positive evi 
dence that he knew of my coming two hours 
before I came. How do you explain that?" 

"I do not pretend to explain it, and I will 
not infuriate Amos by calling it a good guess, 
or a startling coincidence." 

Amos smiled. "Oh, call it what you please, 
Mr. Cabot. But it seems to me that the fact 
of these things invariably coming true ought 
to count for something, even with the legal 
mind." 



AMOS JUDD 

"You say there has never been a single case 
in which your prophecy has failed?" 

"Not one." 

"Suppose, just for illustration, that you 
should look ahead and see yourself in church 
next Sunday standing on your head in the 
aisle, and suppose you had a serious unwilling 
ness to perform the act. Would you still go to 
church and do it?" 

"I should go to church and do it." 

"Out of respect for the prophecy?" 

"No, because I could not prevent it." 

"Have you often resisted?" 

"Not very often, but enough to learn the 
lesson." 

"And you have always fulfilled the proph 
ecy?" 

"Always." 

There was a short silence during which 
Molly kept her eyes on her work, while Amos 
stood silently beside the fire as if there was 



AMOS JUDD 

nothing more to be said. Finally Mr. Cabot 
knocked the ashes from his cigar and asked, 
with his pleasantest smile, "Do you think if 
one of these scenes involved the actions of 
another person than yourself, that person 
would also carry it out?" 

"I think so." 

"That if you told me, for instance, of some 
thing I should do to-morrow at twelve o clock, 
I should do it?" 

"I think so." 

"Well, what am I going to do to-morrow at 
noon, as the clock strikes twelve?" 

"Give me five minutes," and with closed 
eyes and head slightly inclined, the young 
man remained leaning against the mantel 
without changing his position. It seemed a 
long five minutes. Outside, the tempest beat 
viciously against the windows, then with mock 
ing shrieks whirled away into the night. To 
Molly s excited fancy the echoing chimney 
[136] 



AMOS JUDD 

was alive with the mutterings of unearthly 
voices. Although in her father s judgment she 
placed a perfect trust, there still remained a 
lingering faith in this supernatural power, 
whatever it was; but she knew it to be a faith 
her reason might not support. As for Amos, he 
was certainly an interesting figure as he stood 
before them, and nothing could be easier at 
such a moment than for an imaginative girl to 
invest him with mystic attributes. Although 
outwardly American so far as raiment, the cut 
of his hair, and his own efforts could produce 
that impression,, he remained, nevertheless, 
distinctly Oriental. The dark skin, the long, 
black, clearly marked eyebrows, the singular 
beauty of his features, almost feminine in their 
refinement, betrayed a race whose origin and 
traditions were far removed from his present 
surroundings. She was struck by the little scar 
upon his forehead, which seemed, of a sudden, 
to glow and be alive, as if catching some re- 
[137] 



AMOS J U D D 

flection from the firelight. While her eyes were 
upon it, the fire blazed up in a dying effort, 
and went out; but the little scar remained a 
luminous spot with a faint light of its own. 
She drew her hand across her brow to brush 
away the illusion, and as she again looked to 
ward him he opened his eyes and raised his 
head. Then he said to her father, slowly, as if 
from a desire to make no mistake: 

" To-morrow you will be standing in front of 
the Unitarian Church, looking up at the clock 
on the steeple as it strikes twelve. Then you 
will walk along by the Common until you are 
opposite Caleb Farnum s, cross the street, and 
knock at his door. Mrs. Farnum will open it. 
She will show you into the parlor, the room on 
the right, where you will sit down in a rocking- 
chair and wait. I left you there, but can tell 
you the rest if you choose to give the time." 

Molly glanced at her father and was sur 
prised by his expression. Bending forward, his 
[ 138 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

eyes fixed upon Amos with a look of the deep 
est interest, he made no effort to conceal his 
astonishment. He leaned back in the chair, 
however, and resuming his old attitude, said, 
quietly : 

"That is precisely what I intended to do to 
morrow, and at twelve o clock, as I knew he 
would be at home for his dinner. Is it possible 
that a wholesome, out-of-doors young chap like 
you can be something of a mind-reader and not 
know it?" 

"No, sir. I have no such talent." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely sure. It happens that you al 
ready intended to do the thing mentioned, 
but that was merely a coincidence." 

For a moment or two there was a silence, 
during which Mr. Cabot seemed more inter 
ested in the appearance of his cigar than in 
the previous conversation. At last he said: 

"I understand you to say these scenes, or 
[ 139 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

prophecies, or whatever you call them, have 
never failed of coming true. Now, if I wilfully 
refrain from calling on Mr. Farnum to-morrow 
it will have a tendency to prove, will it not, 
that your system is fallible?" 

"I suppose so." 

"And if you can catch it in several such 
errors you might in time lose confidence in 
it?" 

"Very likely, but I think it will never hap 
pen. At least, not in such a way." 

"Just leave that to me," and Mr. Cabot rose 
from his seat and stood beside him in front of 
the fire. "The only mystery, in my opinion, is 
a vivid imagination that sometimes gets the 
better of your facts; or rather combines with 
your facts and gets the better of yourself. 
These visions, however real, are such as come 
not only to hosts of children, but to many 
older people who are highstrung and imagina 
tive. As for the prophetic faculty, don t let 
[ 140 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

that worry you. It is a bump that has not 
sprouted yet on your head, or on any other. 
Daniel and Elijah are the only experts of per 
manent standing in that line, and even their 
reputations are not what they used to be." 

Amos smiled and said something about not 
pretending to compete with professionals, and 
the conversation turned to other matters. After 
his departure, as they went upstairs, Molly lin 
gered in her father s chamber a moment and 
asked if he really thought Mr. Judd had seen 
from his buggy the little incident at the sta 
tion which he thought had appeared to him in 
his vision. 

"It seems safe to suppose so," he answered. 
"And he could easily be misled by a little se 
quence of facts, fancies, and coincidences that 
happened to form a harmonious whole." 

"But in other matters he seems so sensible, 
and he certainly is not easily deceived." 

"Yes, I know, but those are often the very 



AMOS JUDD 

people who become the readiest victims. Now 
Amos, with all his practical common-sense, I 
know to be unusually romantic and imagina 
tive. He loves the mystic and the fabulous. The 
other day while we were fishing together 
thank you, Maggie does love a fresh place for 
my slippers every night the other day I dis 
covered, from several things he said, that he 
was an out-and-out fatalist. But I think we 
can weaken his faith in all that. He is too 
young and healthy and has too free a mind to 
remain a permanent dupe." 



VI 

THE next morning was clear and bright. 
Mr. Cabot, absorbed in his work, spent 
nearly the whole forenoon among his papers, 
and when he saw Molly in her little cart drive 
up to the door with a seamstress from the vil 
lage, he knew the day was getting on. Seeing 
him still at his desk as she entered, she bent 
over him and put a hand before his eyes. "Oh, 
crazy man! You have no idea what a day it is, 
and to waste it over an ink-pot! Why, it is 
half-past eleven, and I believe you have been 
here ever since I left. Stop that work this 
minute and go out of doors." A cool cheek was 
laid against his face and the pen removed from 
his fingers. "Now mind." 

"Well, you are right. Let us both take a 
walk." 

"I wish I could, but I must start Mrs. Turner 
on her sewing. Please go yourself. It is a heav 
enly day." [ 143 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

As he stepped off the piazza a few minutes 
later, she called out from her chamber window, 
"Which way are you going, papa?" 

"To the village, and I will get the mail." 
"Be sure and not go to Mr. Farnum s." 
"I promise," and with a smile he walked 
away. Her enthusiasm over the quality of the 
day he found was not misplaced. The pure, 
fresh air brought a new life. Gigantic snowy 
clouds, like the floating mountains of fairy 
land, moved majestically across the heavens, 
and the distant hills stood clear and sharp 
against the dazzling blue. The road was muddy, 
but that was a detail to a lover of nature, and 
Mr. Cabot, as he strode rapidly toward the vil 
lage, experienced an elasticity and exhilara 
tion that recalled his younger days. He felt 
more like dancing or climbing trees than plod 
ding sedately along a turnpike. With a quick, 
youthful step he ascended the gentle incline 
that led to the Common, and if a stranger had 

r 144 1 



AMOS JUDD 

been called upon to guess at the gentleman s 
age as he walked jauntily into the village with 
head erect, swinging his cane, he would more 
likely have said thirty years than sixty. And 
if the stranger had watched him for another 
three minutes he would have modified his 
guess,, and not only have given him credit for 
his full age, but might have suspected either 
an excessive fatigue or a mild intemperance. 
For Mr. Cabot, during his short walk through 
Daleford Village, experienced a series of sen 
sations so novel and so crushing that he never, 
in his inner self, recovered completely from 
the shock. 

Instead of keeping along the sidewalk to 
the right and going to the post-office accord 
ing to his custom, he crossed the muddy road 
and took the gravel walk that skirted the 
Common. It seemed a natural course, and he 
failed to realize, until he had done it, that he 
was going out of his way. Now he must cross 
[145] 



AMOS JUDD 

the road again when opposite the store. When 
opposite the store, however, instead of crossing 
over he kept along as he had started. Then he 
stopped, as if to turn, but his hesitation was 
for a second only. Again he went ahead, along 
the same path, by the side of the Common. It 
was then that Mr. Cabot felt a mild but un 
pleasant thrill creep upward along his spine 
and through his hair. This was caused by a 
startling suspicion that his movements were 
not in obedience to his own will. A moment 
later it became a conviction. This conscious 
ness brought the cold sweat to his brow, but 
he was too strong a man, too clear-headed and 
determined, to lose his bearings without a 
struggle or without a definite reason. With all 
the force of his nature he stopped once more 
to decide it, then and there: and again he 
started forward. An indefinable, all-pervading 
force, gentle but immeasurably stronger than 
himself, was exerting an intangible pressure, 
[ 1*6] 



AMOS JUDD 

and never in his recollection had he felt so 
powerless,, so weak, so completely at the mercy 
of something that was no part of himself; yet, 
while amazed and impressed beyond his own 
belief, he suffered no obscurity of intellect. 
The first surprise over, he was more puzzled 
than terrified,, more irritated than resigned. 

For nearly a hundred yards he walked on, 
impelled by he knew not what; then, with de 
liberate resolution, he stopped, clutched the 
wooden railing at his side, and held it with an 
iron grip. As he did so, the clock in the belfry 
of the Unitarian Church across the road began 
striking twelve. He raised his eyes, and, re 
calling the prophecy of Amos, he bit his lip, 
and his head reeled as in a dream. "To 
morrow, as the clock strikes twelve, you will 
be standing in front of the Unitarian Church, 
looking up at it." Each stroke of the bell 
and no bell ever sounded so loud vibrated 
through every nerve of his being. It was harsh, 
[147] 



AMOS JUDD 

exultant, almost threatening, and his brain in 
a numb, dull way seemed to quiver beneath 
the blows. Yet, up there, about the white bel 
fry, pigeons strutted along the moulding, coo 
ing, quarrelsome, and important, like any other 
pigeons. And the sunlight was even brighter 
than usual; the sky bluer and more dazzling. 
The tall spire, from the moving clouds behind 
it, seemed like a huge ship, sailing forward 
and upward as if he and it were floating to a 
different world. 

Still holding fast to the fence, he drew the 
other hand sharply across his eyes to rally his 
wavering senses. The big elms towered se 
renely above him, their leaves rustling like a 
countless chorus in the summer breeze. Oppo 
site, the row of old-fashioned New England 
houses stood calmly in their places, self-pos 
sessed, with no signs of agitation. The world, 
to their knowledge, had undergone no sudden 
changes within the last five minutes. It must 
[148] 



AMOS JUDD 

have been a delusion: a little collapse of his 
nerves, perhaps. So many things can affect the 
brain: any doctor could easily explain it. He 
would rest a minute, then return. 

As he made this resolve his left hand, like 
a treacherous servant, quietly relaxed its hold 
and he started off, not toward his home, but 
forward, continuing his journey. He now real 
ized that the force which impelled him, al 
though gentle and seemingly not hostile in 
purpose, was so much stronger than himself 
that resistance was useless. During the next 
three minutes, as he walked mechanically along 
the sidewalk by the Common, his brain was 
nervously active in an effort to arrive at some 
solution of this erratic business; some sensible 
solution that was based either on science or on 
common-sense. But that solace was denied him. 
The more he thought the less he knew. No 
previous experience of his own, and no authen 
ticated experience of anyone else, at least of 
[ 1*9] 



AMOS JUDD 

which he had ever heard, could he summon to 
assist him. When opposite the house of Silas 
Farnum he turned and left the sidewalk, and 
noticed, with an irresponsible interest as he 
crossed the road, that with no care of his own 
he avoided the puddles and selected for his 
feet the drier places. This was another sur 
prise, for he took no thought of his steps; and 
the discovery added to the overwhelming sense 
of helplessness that was taking possession of 
him. With no volition of his own he also 
avoided the wet grass between the road and 
the gravel walk. He next found himself in 
front of Silas Farnum s gate and his hand 
reached forth to open it. It was another mild 
surprise when this hand, like a conscious thing, 
tried the wrong side of the little gate, then 
felt about for the latch. The legs over which 
he had ceased to have direction, carried him 
along the narrow brick walk, and one of them 
lifted him upon the granite doorstep. 
[ 150 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

Once more he resolved, calmly and with a 
serious determination,, that this humiliating 
comedy should go no farther. He would turn 
about and go home without entering the 
house. It would be well for Amos to know 
that an old lawyer of sixty was composed of 
different material from the impressionable en 
thusiast of twenty-seven. While making this 
resolve the soles of his shoes were drawing 
themselves across the iron scraper; then he 
saw his hand rise slowly toward the old-fash 
ioned knocker and, with three taps, announce 
his presence. A huge fly dozing on the knocker 
flew off and lit again upon the panel of the 
door. As it readjusted its wings and drew a 
pair of front legs over the top of its head Mr. 
Cabot wondered, if at the creation of the 
world, it was fore-ordained that this insect 
should occupy that identical spot at a speci 
fied moment of a certain day, and execute 
this trivial performance. If so, what a role 
[ 151 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

humanity was playing! The door opened and 
Mrs. Farnum, with a smiling face, stood before 
him. 

"How do you do, Mr. Cabot? Won t you 
step in?" 

As he opened his lips to decline, he entered 
the little hallway, was shown into the parlor 
and sat in a horse-hair rocking-chair, in which 
he waited for Mrs. Farnum to call her hus 
band. When the husband came Mr. Cabot 
stated his business and found that he was 
once more dependent upon his own volition. 
He could rise, walk to the window, say what 
he wished, and sit down again when he de 
sired. 

Upon reaching home he w T ent directly to 
his chamber, and was glad to enter it without 
meeting his daughter. His reflection in the 
mirror surprised him, as he expected to find 
a face thirty years older than when it started 
for the village. But there were no outward 
[152] 



AMOS JUDD 

traces of the recent struggle. It was the same 
face, calm, firm, and as self-reliant as ever. 
This was reassuring and did much toward a re 
turn of confidence. He threw himself upon the 
bed, and as he lay there he heard through the 
open window the voices of Molly and Amos 
in the old-fashioned garden. They seemed very 
jolly and happy, and Molly s laughter came 
like music to his ears; but her companion, 
although amusing and full of fun, seemed to 
do none of the laughing; and then it came 
upon him that in all his intercourse with Amos 
he had never heard him laugh. Ever ready to 
smile, and often irresistible in his high spirits, 
yet he never laughed aloud. And the deep 
melancholy of his face when in repose was 
that a result of fulfilling prophecies? Were 
there solemn secrets behind that boyish face? 
The perfume of the flowers stole in through 
the closed blinds, and he could hear the buzz 
ing of a bee outside the window, mingling 
[ 153 ] 



AMOS JUBD 

with the voices in the garden. These voices 
became lower, the subject of conversation hav 
ing changed perhaps to something more se 
rious and Mr. Cabot took a nap. 



[154] 



VII 

D you go to Silas Farnum s ?" was 
Molly s first question, and her father 
confessed having done precisely as Amos had 
predicted ; but while giving a truthful account 
of his experience, he told the story in a half- 
jesting manner, attributing his compulsory 
visit to some hypnotic influence, and to a tem 
porary irresponsibility of his own. His daugh 
ter, however, was not deceived. Her belief in 
a supernatural agency renewed its strength. 

As for her father, he had never been more 
at sea in the solution of a problem. In his own 
mind the only explanation was by the domi 
nance of another mind over his own, by a force 
presumably mesmeric. The fact that Amos 
himself was also a victim rendered that theory 
difficult to accept, unless both were dupes of 
some third person. If at the time of his visit to 
Silas Farnum he had been ill, or weak, or in a 

r 155 1 



AMOS JUDD 

nervous condition,, or had it occurred at night 
when the imagination might get the better 
of one s judgment, there would have been 
the possibility of an explanation on physical 
grounds. But that he, James Cabot, of good 
health and strength, should, in the sunlight 
of a summer noon, be the powerless victim of 
such an influence, was a theory so mortifying 
and preposterous as to upset his usual pro 
cesses of reason. 

It was not until the next afternoon that an 
opportunity was given for a word with Amos. 
Out on the grass, beneath a huge elm at the 
easterly corner of the house, Mr. Cabot, in a 
bamboo chair, was reclining with his paper, 
when he noticed his young friend cantering 
briskly along the road on a chestnut horse. 
Amos saw him, turned his animal toward the 
low stone wall that separated the Cabots field 
from the highway, cleared it with an easy 
jump and came cantering over the grass. 
[ 156] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Is that old Betty? I didn t know she was 
a jumper." 

"Oh, yes. She has a record." Dismounting, 
he faced her about and, with a tap on the 
flank, told her to go home. She returned, how 
ever, and showed a desire to rub noses with 
him. "Well, have your way, old lady," and 
leaving her to a feast of clover he threw him 
self on the ground at Mr. Cabot s feet. 

"You are a kind man to your animals, Amos, 
although you may be somewhat offensive as a 
prophet." 

"So you went, after all?" 

"Went where?" 

"To see Silas Farnum." 

"Did I say that?" 

Amos looked up with a smile that could 
have a dozen meanings. His wily companion, 
from a sense of professional caution, wished to 
feel his way before committing himself. 

"You think I went, after all?" 
[ 157 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Yes, sir, I know you did, from my own 
experience." 

"Which is that the events inevitably occur 
as foreseen?" 

"Always." 

"Well, I will make a clean breast of it and 
tell you just what happened." 

"I know it already, Mr. Cabot, as well as if 
you had told me." 

"Do you know of my resolve not to do it? 
Of my ineffectual resistance and the sensations 
I experienced?" 

"I think so. I have been through it all my 
self." 

For a minute or two neither spoke. Amos, 
resting upon an elbow, his cheek against the 
palm of one hand, was, with the other, de 
ceiving a very small caterpillar into useless 
marches from one end of a blade of grass to 
the other. Mr. Cabot, in a more serious tone, 
continued: "Can you tell me, Amos, on your 
[ 158 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

honor, that as far as you know there was no at 
tempt on your part,, or on the part of any other 
person, to influence me upon that occasion?" 

Amos tossed aside the blade of grass and 
sat up. "I give you my word, sir, that so far as 
I know there is nothing in it of that nature. I 
am just as helpless as you when it comes to 
any attempt at resistance." 

"Then how do you account for it?" 

Amos had plucked a longer blade of grass, 
and was winding it about his fingers. "My 
explanation may seem childish to you, but I 
have no better one to offer. It is simply that 
certain events are destined to occur at ap 
pointed times, and that my knowing it in ad 
vance is not allowed to interfere with the 
natural order of things." 

"The evidence may seem to point that way, 
judging from my own experience, but can you 
believe that the whole human race are carry 
ing out such a cut-and-dried scheme? Accord- 
[ 159] 



AMOS JUDD 

ing to that theory we are merely mechanical 
dummies, irresponsible and helpless, like cogs 
in a wheel." 

"No, sir, we are at liberty to do just as we 
please. It was your own idea going to Silas 
Farnum s. That you happened to be told of 
it in advance created an artificial condition, 
otherwise you would have gone there in peace 
and happiness. In other words, it was ordained 
that you should desire to do that thing, and 
you were to do as you desired." 

The lawyer remained silent a moment, his 
face giving no indication either of belief or 
denial. 

"Have you never been able to prevent or 
even modify the fulfilment of an act after 
having seen it in advance?" 

"No, sir; never." 

"Then these scenes as presented to you 
are invariably correct, without the slightest 

change?" 

[160] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Yes." 

Mr. Cabot looked down at his friend with a 
feeling that was not without a touch of awe. 
Of the young man s honesty he had not the 
slightest doubt, and his own recent experience 
seemed but one more proof of the correctness 
of his facts. He looked with a curious interest 
upon this mysterious yet simple Oriental squat 
ting idly on the grass, his straw hat tilted back 
on his head, the dark face bent forward, as with 
careful fingers he gathered a bunch of clover. 

"If this faculty never fails you your knowl 
edge of future events is simply without limit. 
You can tell about the weather, the crops, the 
stock market, the result of wars, marriages, 
births, and deaths, and who the next president 
is to be." 

"Yes, sir," he answered quietly, without 
looking up. 

Mr. Cabot straightened up in his chair and 
rubbed his chin. His credulity had reached its 



AMOS JUDD 

limit, yet, if he could judge by the evidence 
already presented, the young man was adher 
ing strictly to the truth. There followed a 
silence during which Betty, who in nibbling 
about had approached within a few feet of 
them., held out her head, and took the clover 
from Amos. Mr. Cabot brought a pencil and 
piece of paper from his pockets. "I would like 
to try one more experiment, with your per 
mission. Will you write on that paper what I 
am to do at well, say ten o clock to-night?" 

Amos took the paper and closed his eyes, 
but in a moment looked up and said, "You 
are in the dark and I can see nothing." 

"Then you have no knowledge of what goes 
on in the dark?" 

"No, sir; only of things that I can see. If 
there is any light at all I can see as if I were 
there in person, but no better. To-night at ten 
o clock you are in your own chamber, and it is 
absolutely black." 

[162] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Then change the hour to six o clock." 

As Mr. Cabot, a moment later, turned a 
sidelong glance toward his friend, sitting with 
closed eyes before him, he thought the little 
mark upon his forehead had never been so 
distinct. He regarded it with a mild surprise 
as it seemed almost aglow; but the sky was 
becoming rosy in the west, and there might be 
a reflection from the setting sun. Amos wrote 
something on a slip of paper, folded it up and 
returned it to Mr. Cabot, who carefully tucked 
it away in a pocket saying, "I shall not read it 
until six-thirty. I will tell you to-morrow if 
you are correct." 

"Oh, that is correct, sir! You need have no 
anxiety on that point." 

As he spoke there passed slowly along the 
road a cart containing two men, and behind 
the cart, securely fastened, walked a heavy 3 
vicious-looking bull. 

"That is an ugly brute," he said. 
[ 163 J 



AMOS JUDD 

"So I was just thinking. Does he belong in 
the town?" 

"Yes; it is Barnard s bull. Yesterday he got 
loose and so mutilated a horse that it had to 
be shot; and within an hour he tried his best 
to kill old Barnard himself, which was a good 
undertaking and showed public spirit. He is 
sure to have a victim sooner or later, and it 
certainly ought to be old Barnard if anybody." 

"Who is Barnard?" 

"He is the oyster-eyed, malignant old liar 
and skinflint who lives in that red house about 
a mile below here." 

"You seem to like him." 

"I hate him." 

"What has he done to you?" 

"Nothing; but he bullies his wife, starves 
his cattle, and cheats his neighbors. Even as 
a small boy I knew enough to dislike him, 
and whenever he went by the house I used to 

stone him." , 

[164] 



AMOS JUDD 

"What a pleasant little neighbor you must 
have been! " 

Amos tried to smile, but his anger was evi 
dently too serious a matter to be treated with 
disrespect. Mr. Cabot, after regarding for a 
moment the wrathful eyes that still followed 
the bull, continued: 

"You are more than half barbarian, my war 
like farmer. Must you do physical damage to 
everyone you dislike?" 

"No, sir; but as a rule I should like to. 
As for loving your enemies count me out. 
I love my friends. The man who pretends to 
love his enemies is either a hypocrite or a 
poor hater." 

The older man smiled at the earnestness 
with which this sentence was uttered. "I am 
afraid, Mr. Amos Judd, you are not a Chris 
tian. Take my advice and join a bible-class 
before the devil gets his other hand upon 
you." 

[ 165] 



AMOS JUDD 

After a few words on other matters, Amos 
called his mare, and departed. 

As the hour of six drew near, Mr. Cabot 
made a point of realizing that he was a free 
agent and could do whatever he wished, and 
he resolved that no guess, based on a proba 
bility, should prove correct. To assure himself 
that there w r as no compulsion or outside influ 
ence of any nature, he started first for the barn 
to execute a fantastic resolve, then as an addi 
tional proof that he was absolutely his own 
master, suddenly changed his mind, turned 
about, and went upstairs. 

Going along a back passage with no definite 
intention, he paused at a half-open door, looked 
in, and entered. The blinds were closed, but 
between the slats came bars of light from the 
western sun, illumining the little room, an un 
used chamber, now serving as a storehouse for 
such trunks and sundry relics as had failed to 
reach the attic. Mr. Cabot noticed a rocking- 
[ 166] 



AMOS JUDD 

horse in one corner and his eyes sparkled with 
a new idea. After closing the door he dragged 
the steed from its resting-place, planted it in 
the middle of the floor, and looked at his 
watch. It lacked four minutes of six. As he 
prepared to mount he saw the legs of a rag- 
baby projecting over a shelf, and pulling her 
down, could not restrain a smile as he held her 
in his arms. A large, round, flat, and very pale 
but dirty face was emphasized by fiery cheeks, 
whose color, from a want of harmony with the 
coarse material of her visage, had only lingered 
in erratic blotches. With this lady in his arms 
he mounted the horse, and, while gently rock 
ing with both feet on the ground, he again 
took out his watch and found he was just on 
the minute of six o clock. But he kept his seat 
for a moment longer, judging the situation too 
good to be trifled with, and too unusual for 
any ordinary guess. Carelessly he rocked a lit 
tle faster, when a front foot of his overladen 
[167] 



AMOS JUDD 

steed slipped from its rocker and Mr. Cabot 
nearly lost his balance. The damage,, however, 
he easily repaired; the rag-baby was replaced 
upon her shelf, and when he left the little 
room and returned to his own chamber there 
was an expression upon his face that seemed 
indicative of an amiable triumph. Some minutes 
later, with a similar expression, he took from 
his pocket the slip of paper on which Amos 
had written, read it once with some haste, 
then a second time and more carefully. 

The Hon. James Cabot, one of the most respected 
residents of Daleford, attempted at six o clock to 
elope with an obscure maiden of the village. But 
his horse, an animal with one glass eye and no tail, 
broke down before they had fairly started and went 
lame in his off front foot. 

For several minutes he stood looking down 
at the paper between his fingers, occasionally 
drawing a hand across his forehead. Then he 
[168] 



AMOS JUDD 

refolded the paper and placing it in his pocket, 
took his hat and went out into the orchard, to 
think, and to be alone. 

On questioning Amos he found no more 
light was to be expected from that quarter, 
as the young man had already expounded his 
only theory, which was that these visions were 
but optional warnings of the inevitable: that 
all was fore-ordained: that there could be no 
variations in the course of Fate. His mind was 
not philosophical; his processes of reason were 
simple and direct, and he listened with pro 
found interest to Mr. Cabot s deeper and more 
scientific attempts at reaching a consistent ex 
planation. Little progress, however, was made 
in this direction, and the lawyer admitted that 
the evidence, so far, contradicted in no detail 
his friend s belief. He also found that Amos, 
although deeply concerned in the subject when 
once opened, rarely introduced it himself or 
referred to it in any way; and that he never 
[169] 



AMOS JUDD 

employed his power except in the rarest emer 
gencies. 

Moreover, the lawyer understood how such 
a faculty, although of value in certain cases, 
would, in the great majority, be worse than 
useless, while it could not fail of an overpower 
ing influence on the being who employed it. 
He respected the strength of purpose that 
enabled the young man to keep it in the back 
ground, and he felt that he had discovered at 
least one reason for the restless pleasures of 
his youth. Now, happily, he was securing a 
calmer and a healthier diversion from a life in 
the open air. As his neighbor became the ob 
ject of a deeper study it was evident the con 
flicting qualities that seemed to give such vary 
ing colors to his character were the result of 
these extraordinary conditions. His occasional 
recklessness and indifference were now easily 
explained. His disregard for religious obser 
vances was in perfect harmony with an insight 
[ 170] 



AMOS JUDD 

into the workings of a stupendous fate, im 
measurably above the burning of candles and 
the laws of ecclesiastical etiquette. His love 
of exercise, of sunshine, of every form of plea 
sure and excitement, were but the means of 
escape from the pursuing dread of an awful 
knowledge. And the lavish generosity that 
often startled his friends and bewildered Dale- 
ford was a trivial matter to one who, if he cared 
to peruse in advance the bulletins of the stock 
exchange, could double his fortune in a day. 
Off and on through July and a part of Au 
gust an unwonted animation prevailed at the 
Cabots , extending at times along the maples 
to the other house. Certain visitors of Molly s 
were the cause of this gayety, and in their en 
tertainment she found Amos a helpful friend. 
His horses, his fields, his groves, his fruits, his 
flowers, and himself, were all at her disposal, 
absolutely and at any time. A few friends of 
his ow r n coming at the same period proved a 
[ 171 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

welcome reinforcement,, and the leaves of the 
old maples rustled with a new surprise at the 
life and laughter, the movement, the color, 
and the music that enlivened their restful 
shades. And also at night, during the warm 
evenings when farmers were abed, the air was 
awake with melodies which floated off in the 
summer air, dying away among the voices of 
the frogs and turtles along the borders of the 
meadow. 

One warm afternoon in August, when there 
were visitors at neither house, Amos and Molly 
climbed over a wall into a pasture, for a 
shorter cut toward home. The pasture was ex 
tensive, and their course lay diagonally across 
a long hill, beyond whose brow they could see 
nothing. A crimson sunshade and white dress 
were in dazzling contrast to the dull greens 
of the pasture, whose prevailing colors were 
from rocks and withered grass. Patches of wild 
bushes where the huckleberries were in over- 
[ 172 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

whelming majority necessitated either wide 
detours or careful navigating among thorns and 
briars. Her companion seemed indifferent to 
the painful fact that knickerbockers are no 
protection against these enemies. But pricks 
in the leg at the present moment were too 
trivial for notice. He was speaking with un 
usual earnestness, keeping close at her side, 
and now and then looking anxiously into her 
face. It may have been the heat and the exer 
cise that drove the color to her cheeks, and 
there were also signs of annoyance as if she 
desired to escape him; but the ground was 
uneven, and the stones and bushes rendered 
haste impossible. She also appeared tired, and 
when they stopped at intervals always turned 
away her face, until finally, when half across 
the field, she sank upon a rock. "I really must 
rest. I am dreadfully warm." 

He stood beside her, facing in the same 
direction, both looking over the peaceful val- 
t 173] 



AMOS JUDD 

ley from which an occasional cow-bell was the 
only sound. 

"It is really a little unfair that my old 
record should come between us. I was only 
twenty then, with no end of money and no 
parents or guardian to look after me. Mr. Judd 
would let rne do whatever I wished, and of 
course I sailed ahead and did everything. In 
stead of having an allowance like other fellows 
I just asked for what I wanted, and always got 
it. And that is death to a boy." 

He pulled a twig from a bush and began to 
bite the end of it. If at that instant he had 
glanced down at the face beside him, he might 
have detected an expression that was not un 
justly severe. There was a distinct ray of sym 
pathy in the eyes that were fixed thoughtfully 
upon the valley. 

" And then all the girls met me more than 
half-way, as if they, too, had conspired against 
me." 

[ 174] 



AMOS JUDD 

This was said in a half-resentful., half-plain 
tive tone, and so delightfully free from any 
boastfulness that Molly,, to conceal something 
very near a smile, bent her head and picked 
nettles from her skirt. 

"Of course I liked a good time, there is no 
denying that, and I struck the wrong gang at 
college. I suppose I was weak everlastingly 
and disgustingly weak; but really you might 
make allowances, and anyway 

He stopped abruptly and turned about. 
Looking up she saw an expression in his eyes, 
as they gazed at something behind her, that 
caused her to spring to her feet and also turn 
about. As she did so the color left her face and 
her knees gave way beneath her. Instinctively 
she clutched his arm. Within twenty yards of 
them stood Barnard s bull, and in his broad 
black head and cruel horns, in the distended 
nostrils and bloodshot eye, she read the fury 
of an unreasoning brute; and with it her own 
[175] 



AMOS JUDD 

death and mutilation. Helpless they stood in 
the open pasture with no tree or refuge near. 
Amos cast a swift glance to the right, to the 
left, and behind them. The bull lowered his 
head just a very little, and as he stepped 
slowly forward she could hear his breath in 
impatient puffs. Her brain began to swim and 
she closed her eyes, but a sharp word and a 
rough shake brought her back with a start. 

" Do just as I tell you. Turn and walk slowly 
off to the wall at the right. Then climb over. 
Don t run till I say so. Give me your parasol." 

He twisted her about and gave her a push. 

" Don t look around." 

Gasping, faint, and so weak from terror that 
she could hardly direct her steps, she did as 
she was told. In her dazed mind there was no 
conception of time or distance, but, a moment 
after, hearing a snort from the bull and the 
quick pounding of his feet, she stopped and 
turned. She expected to see Amos on the crea- 
[ 176 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

hire s horns, but Amos was running in the 
other direction, so far safe, although scarcely 
his own length ahead. In an instant she saw to 
her horror that, although a nimble runner, he 
was losing distance with every spring of the 
bull. But with a presence of mind that did 
much toward renewing her own courage, he 
kept looking over his shoulder, and when fur 
ther running was hopeless, he jumped swiftly 
to one side, the side up the hill, and the pon 
derous brute plunged on for several feet before 
he could come to a stop. Amos looked at once 
in her direction, and when he saw her he 
shook his hand and cried, in an angry voice: 
"Run! Run! Your life depends 011 it!" 
There was no time to say more, for the bull 
had wheeled and was again coming toward 
him. Molly turned and ran as she never ran 
before, and never before did so many thoughts 
flash through her mind. Above all came the 
torturing regret that she could be of no pos- 
[177] 



AMOS JUDD 

sible service to the man who, at that moment 
perhaps, was giving up his life for hers. Leap 
ing rocks, stumbling over hillocks, tearing 
through bushes, she finally reached the wall, 
scrambled up and over as best she could, then, 
with a throbbing heart and pallid face, looked 
back into the field. 

They were farther up the hill, and Amos 
had evidently just jumped aside, for again the 
bull and he were facing each other. The ani 
mal was advancing slowly toward him, head 
down, with an angry lashing of the tail and 
occasional snorts that drove the blood from the 
spectator s heart. As Amos retreated slowly, 
his face to the animal, she saw him look swiftly 
in her direction, then back at the bull. Faster 
and faster the animal came toward him, and 
when finally he bounded forward on a run 
Amos turned and ran for his life. He was now 
making for this side of the pasture, but she 
saw with the keenest anguish that all his elas- 
[178] 



AMOS JUDD 

ticity had departed, that he was losing ground 
much faster than at first. That he should show 
signs of exhaustion caused her no surprise, for 
the ground w r as rough, low briars and bushes 
concealing rocks of* treacherous shapes and 
varying sizes, and the race was harder for the 
man than for the bull. The distance between 
them was being lessened with a rapidity that 
might end the struggle without a second s 
warning, and the horns were now within a 
yard of his heels. Again he jumped to one side, 
but this time it brought a cry of agony from 
beyond the wall. His foot slipped, and instead 
of landing a yard or more from the creature s 
path, he measured his length upon the ground. 
The bull lowered his head and plunged sav 
agely upon him. The horns grazed the pros 
trate body, and the heavy brute, by his own 
impetus, dashed a dozen yards beyond. Amos 
raised first his head and shoulders, then 
climbed to his feet, slowly, like one bewildered 
[ 179] 



AMOS JUDD 

or in pain. He stood cautiously upon his legs as 
if uncertain of their allegiance, but he still 
clutched the crimson sunshade. The bull, with 
fiery nostrils and bloodshot eyes, once more 
came on, and Amos started for the wall. It 
was evident to the one spectator that his 
strength was gone. With every jump of the 
thing behind him he was losing ground, and 
the awful end was near, and coming swiftly. 
She sank against the wall and clutched it, for 
the sky and pasture were beginning to revolve 
before her straining eyes. But Amos, instead 
of coming straight for the wall, bore down the 
hill. With the hot breath close upon his heels, 
he opened the crimson sunshade, jumped aside, 
and thrust it upon the pursuing horns: then 
without looking back he made a bee-line for 
the wall. It was skilfully done, and for one 
precious moment the seeming victor was de 
layed by goring the infuriating color; but only 
for a moment. He saw his enemy escaping and 
[ 180 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

bounded in pursuit. This time, however, he 
missed him by a dozen feet and saw him vault 
the barrier into safety. The wall he accepted 
as a conclusion,, but he stood close against it, 
looking over in sullen anger, frothing, hot- 
eyed, and out of breath. 

Then he witnessed a scene, to him of little 
interest, but which signified much to another 
person. He saw the girl, anxious, pale, with dis 
ordered hair, eagerly approach the exhausted 
runner; then, nervously pressing a hand to 
her cheek, she bent forward and asked a ques 
tion. The young man, who was leaning against 
a tree and seemed to have trouble with 
his breathing, suddenly, with a joyful face, 
stretched forth his hands, and with even more 
eagerness than her own, asked in his turn a 
question, whereupon the color rushed to her 
face. Looking down, then up at him, then 
down again, she smiled and muttered some 
thing, and he, without waiting for further 



AMOS JUDD 

words, seized her in his arms, and with one 
hand holding her chin, kissed her mouth and 
cheeks, not once but many times. But she 
pushed away from him, flushed and possibly 
angry. However, it could not have been a 
deep-seated or lasting anger, for she created 
no disturbance when he took one of her hands 
in both of his and made a little speech. It ap 
peared an interesting discourse, although she 
looked down and off, and all about, at every 
thing except at him, smiling and changing 
color all the w r hile. He seemed foolishly happy, 
and when a moment later he wished to assist 
in rearranging her hair, he was not depressed 
because the offer was declined with contempt. 
Then the young man took a few steps to 
ward the wall, and stood facing the huge head 
whose bloodshot eyes were still upon him. As 
he lifted his hand there was a hitch in the 
motion, and a spasm of pain drew down a cor 
ner of his mouth, but the girl behind him 



AMOS JUDD 

could not see this. He raised his cap and 
saluted his adversary. 

"I thank you, Bull, for chasing me into 
Molly Cabot s heart." 

Then he turned, and hand in hand, the two 
people disappeared among the pines. 



VIII 

A CORDING to habit, Mr. Cabot composed 
himself by the library table that even 
ing for an hour s reading before going to bed, 
but the book was soon lifted from his grasp 
and Molly seated herself in his lap. Although 
fingers were inserted between his collar and 
neck as a warning that the closest attention 
was expected, there followed a short silence 
before any words were uttered. Then she told 
him all: of being face to face with Barnard s 
bull; of the narrow escape; of how Amos re 
mained alone in the open field, and lastly, she 
gave the substance of what the rescuer had 
said to her, and that she had promised to be 
his wife. But on condition that her father 
should consent. 

He received the news gravely; confessed he 
was not so very much surprised, although he 
had hoped it would come a little later. And 
[ 18*1 



AMOS JUDD 

she was very happy to find he made no objec 
tion to Amos as a son-in-law, and to hear him 
praise his character and pronounce him an 
honest, manly fellow. His behavior with the 
bull was heroic, but did not she think the 
reward he demanded was exorbitant? Was 
it not a little greedy to ask as a price for 
his services the entire value of the rescued 
property? It certainly was not customary to 
snatch away the object before placing it in 
the owner s hands. "But he risked his life 
to save yours, and for that he shall have 
anything I own." 

The following morning, as she stepped upon 
the piazza, the doctor s buggy came down the 
opposite avenue and turned toward the village. 
Could old Mrs. Judd be ill? or was it one of 
the servants? 

An hour later, as there were still no signs 
of her bull-fighter she began to feel a slight 
annoyance. Perhaps after sleeping upon the 
[ 185 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

events of yesterday his enthusiasm had cooled. 
Perhaps his exceptionally wide experience in 
this field had taught him that the most deli 
cate way out of such dilemmas was to give the 
girl the initiative, and perhaps, now that he 
was sure she loved him, all the fun had de 
parted. Perhaps, in short, he was now realizing 
that he had committed himself. Although none 
of these suspicions took a serious hold there 
was a biting of the nether lip and a slight 
flush upon the cheeks as she re-entered the 
house: and in order that he might not suspect, 
when he did come, that his delay had caused 
the slightest feeling, or that anyone had 
watched for him, she returned to her room. 
A few moments later a note was brought in 
which was received with indifference, but 
which, after Maggie s departure she opened 
with nervous fingers. 



[186] 



AMOS JUDD 

MY GIRL: That bull, God bless him! 
smashed two of my ribs, the doctor 
says, but I know better. They were broken by 
an outward force, a sudden expansion of the 
heart, and I felt them going when you came 
into a pair of arms. 

Please come over, or I shall fly away, as I 
feel the sprouting of wings, and there is a 

cracking among the other ribs. 

AMOS. 

She went, and although their conversation 
that morning touched upon ribs and anatomy, 
it would, if taken as a whole, have been of 
little value to a scientist. It was distinctly per 
sonal. The one sentiment which appeared to 
have an irresistible fascination for the bull 
fighter and his fiancee colored all remarks, 
and the fact that the dialogue would have 
caused them the most intense mortification if 
made public, tended in no degree to lessen 
their enjoyment. To a middle-aged person who 
[ 187 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

had never been in love it would have been 
unendurable. 

Later in the day she intercepted the doctor 
and learned as much as possible of the pa 
tient s condition. Two ribs were badly broken, 
he said; had been pressed inward to a serious 
extent, but so far there were no indications 
of internal injuries. Of this, however, he could 
not at present be absolutely sure, but he 
thought there was no great cause for alarm. 
The patient, of course, must keep quiet for a 
week or two. 

Fortunately for Amos there proved to be no 
injury save the damaged ribs, but three long 
weeks elapsed before he was allowed to go up 
and down stairs and move about the house. 

The last day of August proved a day of dis 
coveries. 

It was bright and warm, yet invigorating, 
the perfection of terrestrial weather, and Mr. 
Cabot and Molly, early in the afternoon, were 
[ 188 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

sitting upon the piazza discussing the date of 
their departure, Amos occupying his favorite 
place upon the floor in front of them, his back 
against a column. When she informed her 
father that additional trunks or boxes of some 
kind would be needed, Amos said that such 
articles were going to waste in the Judd resi 
dence, and if she would but step across the 
way and select a few, it would be a lasting 
benefit to an overcrowded attic. This offer was 
accepted and they started off. After climbing 
the final stairs, which were steep and narrow, 
Molly seated herself upon an old-fashioned 
settle, the back of which could be lowered and 
used as an ironing table. "How I do love this 
smell of an attic! Is it the sap from the hot 
pine? And isn t there sage in the air, or sum 
mer savory?" 

"Both. With a few old love-letters and a 
touch of dried apples." 

"Whatever it is, I love it. The days of my 



AMOS JUDD 

childhood come galloping back/ and with 
upturned face she closed her eyes and drew 
a longer breath. He bent silently over and 
touched her lips. 

"What a breach of hospitality!" 

"When a visitor insults a host by sleeping in 
his presence,, it is etiquette to awaken her. And 
when lips with those particular undulations 
look one pleasantly in the eye and say Amos, 
kiss us/ what do you expect to happen?" 

"From you I expect the worst, the most 
improper thing." 

ee And you will always get it, O spirit of old- 
fashioned Roses!" 

In opening a window he disturbed an enor 
mous fly, whose buzzing filled every corner of 
the roof. "To me," he said, "this atmosphere 
recalls long marches and battles, with splendid 
victories and awful defeats." 

"I don t see why. To me it seems delight 
fully restful." 

[ 19] 



AMOS JUDD 

From an ancient horse-hair trunk he brought 
forth a box, and seating himself at her feet, 
emptied its contents upon the floor. 

"This is why/ and he arranged in parallel 
lines the little leaden soldiers, diminutive can 
nons, some with wheels and some without, 
and a quantity of dominos, two by two. "These 
are troops, and if you care to know how I 
passed the rainy days of boyhood this will 
show you." 

"But, what are the dominos?" 

"They are the enemy. These lead soldiers 
are mine, and they are all veterans, and all 
brave. This is myself," and he held up a bent 
and battered relic on a three-legged horse. 

"And who are you in these fights, Goosey?" 

"Napoleon, generally; often Caesar and 
Frederick, and sometimes George Washington 
and General Lee." 

" But you have no head. Is n t that a draw 
back for a commander?" 
[191 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Not with troops like these. I lost that head 
at Quebec, as Montcalm." 

She looked down upon him with a wish that 
she also might have been one of those absurd 
little soldiers and shared his victories. 

"The cracks between the floor-boards/ he 
continued, "are railroads, rivers, canals, stone 
walls, or mountain ranges, according to the 
campaign." 

"They must have been a nuisance, though. 
Could not a soldier disappear and not return?" 

te l should say he could! Why, those ravines 
are gorged with heroes, and that recalls the 
most humiliating event of my career. I was 
leading the charge of the Light Brigade, six 
of these cavalrymen, each representing a hun 
dred men. I of course was in front, and it was 
a supreme moment. As we dashed across the 
open field the cracks, mind you, did n t count 
this time I, the leader, suddenly disappeared, 
head downward, feet up, in an open field! Of 
[ 192 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

course the charge could not stop, and the 
others rushed on to a magnificent death." 

With a sigh he gathered the motley com 
pany together again, and laid them away in 
their box. She got up and moved about. "I 
should like to live in an attic. It is mysterious 
and poetic, and so crammed with history. Each 
of these things has its little story for some 
body," and she stopped before a curious feminine 
garment in India silk, of a long-ago fashion. 

Pointing to a quaint old cap with ear-laps, 
she exclaimed, "What a funny rig that is! Put 
it on." And she took it from its peg and placed 
it upon his head, then laughed and led him to 
a broken mirror that was hanging from a 
rafter. "Unless you wear it in New York next 
winter, I shall never marry you!" 

"Then I promise, but at present it is a trifle 
warm." 

As he removed it a letter slipped from the 
lining and fell to the floor. She picked it up 
[ 193 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

and turned it over in her fingers. "Why, it 
has never been opened! It is directed to Mr. 
Josiah Judd." 

Amos examined it, studied the date, then 
looked at the old cap. "He wore this at the 
time of his death, when he had just come from 
the post-office, and the Daleford postmark says 
December fifth, the very day before. That is 
very curious." And he stood looking down at 
the letter, deep in thought. 

"Why don t you open it? You are the one 
who should do it, I suppose." 

"Yes, I suppose so." 

"Where is it from?" 

" India. From Mr. Morton Judd, his brother, 
the one who sent me here." 

"Oh, yes! I remember. Is Mr. Morton Judd 
alive?" 

"No, he died ten years ago." 

"Well, please open it, for it may be interest 
ing. Come over near the light." 
[ 194] 



AMOS JUDD 

As they stood by the open window, leaning 
against the sill, he tore open the envelope and 
began reading aloud, she looking idly out upon 
some haymakers in a neighboring field. Their 
voices came faintly to her ears, and they made 
a pleasant picture in the afternoon sunlight 
with the village spires, the tall elms, and the 
purple hills for a background. She wondered if 
India was at all like New England. 

DEAR JOSIAH: The case ought to reach 
you about a fortnight after this letter, 
and if you will write to Mr. Wharton, or better 
still, visit him, he will see that there is 110 
trouble at the Custom House. Give my love to 
Sarah, but don t show her the shawl and the 
silks before her birthday, in January. What you 
say about the boy Amos does not surprise me, 
and I was only waiting for you to make your 
own discoveries. He gave clear indications 
when a very small child of this same faculty 
[ 195] 



AMOS JUDD 

in which his mother and the rest of his family 
had great faith. In the box you will receive I 
send a book giving an account of the Rajah 
Sirdar Sing, his ancestor, a hero of prophetic 
powers who died ninety-eight years ago, so 
this boy, according to tradition, should inherit 
the same supernatural faculties. Be careful that 
he does not see this book before coming of 
age, as it might put dangerous ideas into his 
head, and if he should suspect what he really 
is great mischief might ensue. I am glad he 
is turning out such a sensible boy. But if he 
should ever come over here and make himself 
known it would cause a great disturbance, and 
might result fatally to himself. Am sorry to 
hear about Phil Bates s wife. She was a fool to 
marry him. Your affectionate brother, 

MORTON JUDD. 

Amos stood looking down at the letter and 
remained silent. She laid a hand upon his arm 
[196] 



AMOS JUDD 

and said, "What does it mean, Amos, about 
not letting you know who you are? Who are 
you?" 

He looked up with a smile. "I don t know; 
I can only guess." 

"Well, what do you guess?" 

"I guess that I am the rajah of that prov 
ince." 

"Really? Why, you don t mean it! And have 
you always known it?" 

"I don t know it now, but I have always sus 
pected it." 

"You funny old thing! Why, this is awfully 
exciting! And you never told me!" 

"Why should I? Your father would only 
have hastened my departure if I had tried to 
pass myself off as a fairy prince ; and you would 
have laughed in my face." 

"No. I am not so sure. But that was long 
ago, and to-day I should believe anything you 
told me." 

[97] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Well, I believe you would/ and there, at 
the open window, he put his arm about her 
waist and did that unnecessary thing true 
lovers seem unable to resist. She jumped away 
to turn with an anxious face and look cau 
tiously through the window. But the distant 
haymakers gave no signs of having received a 
shock. 

"Could they have seen?" she demanded. 

He looked over upon the sunlit field. "No, 
poor things, they missed it!" 

But Molly moved away and seated herself 
upon a venerable little horse-hair trunk whose 
bald spots were numerous and of considerable 
extent. Brass-headed nails, now black with 
age, studded all its edges and formed at each 
end the initials of Josiah Judd. 

"Tell me, little Amos, what happened to 
you as a child, that you should consider your 
self a fairy prince." 

The trunk was short for two, but Amos, by 
[ 198 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

a little pushing and crowding, managed to sit 
beside her. 

"Well, in the first place, I was always too 
wise and too amiable for an ordinary mor 

"No, no! Be serious." 

"Well, almost everything I remember seems 
to point in that direction. For instance, there 
was a separate seat for me on swell occasions; 
a sort of throne, I should say, and all the other 
people stood up. In the big hall I told you 
about where the fight took place, I used to sit 
in an ivory chair with gold ornaments on it, 
cocked up on a platform apart from other peo 
ple. And that afternoon I w r as walking across 
the hall toward it when the fierce-looking 
chap with the beard caught me up and passed 
me along." 

"Gracious! This is very exciting! Go on." 

"I could give you this sort of stuff by the 
yard if the conditions were favorable. The 
conditions now are unfavorable." 
[ 199 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

Their eyes met, but experience had taught 
her caution. "Go on. There are no rajahs in 
America, and you will do as I tell you." 

"That is very true, but we are too far 
apart." 

"And all the while you are crowding me off 
this trunk!" 

"Yes, but at the same time I am holding 
you on. Do you see that old rocking-chair 
over there with one arm that is beckoning to 
us?" 

There followed a brief, illogical discussion, 
then finally a gentle force was used by the 
stronger party, and a moment later the old 
chair groaned beneath a heavier burden than 
it had borne for thirty years. 

After persistent urging the reminiscences 
were continued. "They always helped me first 
at table, no matter how old the other guests 
were, or how many or how swell. The bowing 
and saluting was much more elaborate toward 
[ 200 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

me than toward anyone else, and in proces 
sions they always stuck me in front. Shortly 
after my father died there was a grand cere 
mony in a sort of courtyard with awnings over 
us, and I remember what an everlasting affair 
it was, and how my uncle and an old general 
stood behind my chair, while all the swells and 
panjandrums came up and saluted me, then 
passed along. I should say there might have 
been a million. I know I went to sleep and 
my uncle kept tapping me on the shoulder to 
keep me aw r ake." 

"You poor little thing! But you must really 
have been something tremendously important, 
mustn t you?" 

"It seems so." 

"Well, go on." 

" After that there were some big reviews, 

and I sat on a white pony with officers in a 

semicircle behind me, while the troops marched 

by, and the generals and colonels all saluted. 

[201 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

That was great fun. And I shall never forget 
my saddle of crimson leather with the gold 
trimmings." 

"How romantic! Why, it seems impossible!" 

"Do you remember the head-dress in my 
mother s miniature?" 

"Yes." 

" Well, I find that sort of thing is only worn 
by royalty." 

There was a pause, during which the old 
chair rocked gently to and fro, but noisily, as 
if in protest against its double burden, while 
the voices from the neighboring field came 
drifting in the window and with them the 
occasional tinkling of a cow-bell. 

" And to think of your being here in Con 
necticut, a farmer!" 

"Thank heaven I am!" and there followed 

one of those foolish but apparently enjoyable 

scenes which no dignified historian is expected 

to describe. Stepping away from the rocking- 

[ 202 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

chair Molly turned with a frown upon its re 
maining occupant as she pressed an escaping 
lock into position. Through the open window 
the setting sun sent a bar of light across the 
attic that illumined her hair with a golden 
touch. 

"We must find that book/ she exclaimed, 
with an impatient gesture. "It will tell us the 
very things we wish to know. Come, get up, 
and hunt!" 

Slowly rocking, with his head resting against 
the chair, he regarded her with admiring eyes, 
but showed no signs of haste. "There is but 
one book I care to study, and that is a poem in 
pink, about five feet six in length, with gilt 
edges at the top." 

She smiled sadly. " No, not a poem, but very 
ordinary prose, and you will get precious little 
wisdom from studying it." 

"On the contrary, every page is a revelation. 
Why, the binding alone is a poem! Merely 



AMOS JUDD 

to hold it in one s lap and look at the cover 
is a gentle intoxication." 

Wavering between a smile and a frown,, she 
answered : 

"I wonder if all rajahs are such transparent 
flatterers. But come! Find the book! It must 
be downstairs in the library." 

"No, it is not down there. I know every 
book among them." 

"Where can it be,, then? tucked away in 
some trunk or drawer?" 

"Probably." 

"Could it be in that?" and she pointed to 
an old cherry-wood desk just behind him. He 
turned and regarded it. 

"As likely there as anywhere. It is the desk 
he used until he died." 

Molly opened the slanting top and found 

an array of pigeonholes filled with old papers. 

There were some very small drawers, all of 

which she opened, but they contained no 

[ 204 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

book, so she closed the top and opened the 
long upper drawer. It was almost empty, the 
only contents being a few envelopes of seeds, 
some tools, scattered cards, and a couple of 
marbles that ran about as the drawer was 
opened. 

"I rather think you know this place," and 
she lifted up a bladeless jackknife. "Only a 
boy. could treat a knife in such a way." 

"Yes, I remember all those things. That 
wooden pistol has killed lots of Indians." 

The second drawer held among other things 
a camel s-hair shawl, a bed-cover, a pair of wo 
man s slippers, a huge shell-comb elaborately 
carved, some black mits, and a package of let 
ters; almost everything except a book. The 
third drawer and the fourth were equally dis 
appointing. The lowest drawer was deeper and 
heavier, and it stuck. Amos sprang to help her, 
and together they pulled it open, then sat 
down upon the floor in front of it. The char- 
[ 205 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

acter of its contents was much like the others, 
but Molly delved thoroughly among its trea 
sures and she received her reward. As her 
hand was exploring a farther corner she looked 
up into his face with a look of excitement. 

"Here is a book! It must be the one!" and 
a little volume was drawn forth. 

" f The Heroes of India! aren t we in luck!" 

It was a handsome little book, with a blue 
morocco cover and gilt edges, published in 
Calcutta. Turning over the leaves with eager 
fingers she came to a bookmark opposite a 
portrait, a steel engraving, showing the head 
and shoulders of a bejewelled prince. 

"Why, it might be you! It is exactly like 
you! Look!" and she held it before him. 

"So it is, but perhaps they all are. Let s 
hear about him if you are sure he is our man." 

"Oh, I am sure of it! He is the image of 
you and the others are not;" and she began 
to read. 

[ 206 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Of all the royal families in India, none 
claim an existence more remote than that of 
the Maharaja Sirdar Oumra Sing. According to 
accepted history and tradition, this princely 
house not only dates back to the earliest cen 
turies of Eastern history, but owes its origin to 
the immortal Vishn u himself. It is a romantic 
story, in fact the survival of an ancient fable, 
poetic and supernatural, but, curiously enough, 
seems to be substantiated by the extraordinary 
attributes of a recent ruler. The Rajah Sirdar 
Sing, whose portrait heads this article, was 
perhaps the most popular hero of Northern 
India, and unless we eject the evidence of all 
his contemporaries, was possessed of powers 
that brought him the most startling victories 
both in peace and war, and over adversaries 
that were considered invincible. His kingdom, 
during his reign of thirty years, was nearly 
doubled in territory and enormously increased 
in wealth. In his own country to-day there 
[ 207 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

are none who question his prophetic powers: 
men of science and of letters, historians, high 
priests, lawyers, soldiers, all firmly believe in 
his immortal gifts. To us Europeans, however, 
these tales are more difficult of acceptance. 

"In the very centre of Sirdar Sing s fore 
head the reader may have observed a faint 
spot scarcely half an inch in diameter, and 
this appeared, we are told, like a scar or a 
burn, of a lighter color than the skin and, 
except under certain conditions, was barely 
noticeable. But the tradition runs that when 
exercising his prophetic faculty this little spot 
increased in brilliancy and almost glowed, as 
if of flame." 

"And so does yours!" and she regarded 
him with a look of awe. 

"Go ahead," he said, looking down at the 
book. "Let us hear the rest." 

[ 208 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"The legend is this: 

"When Vishn u in his Kr ishn a-Avatara, or 
eighth incarnation, was hard-pressed in his 
war against the Kurus, he received great as 
sistance from Arjuna, a Pan d u prince who, 
after a four days battle, and at great risk to 
himself, delivered to his immortal ally the sa 
cred city of Dwaraka. For this service and in 
token of his undying gratitude, Vishn u laid 
his finger upon the forehead of Arjuna and en 
dowed him with a knowledge of future events, 
also promising that once in a hundred years a 
descendant should possess this priceless gift. 
Although we may not accept this romantic 
tale, there is no doubt whatever that Sirdar 
Sing, the original of our portrait, was guided 
by a knowledge of the future, either earthly 
or divine, which neither scientists nor histo 
rians have yet explained. The next in order to 
inherit this extraordinary faculty, if there is 
truth in the legend, will be the son of the 
[ 209 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

present rajah, whose nuptials have just been 
celebrated with such lavish and magnificent 
festivities." 

She paused for a moment, then with trem 
bling fingers turned back to the title-page. 
The book was printed twenty-eight years ago, 
the year before Amos was born. 

For a long time they sat on the floor talk 
ing; she asking many questions and he an 
swering, until the listening objects in the attic 
began to lose their outline and become a part 
of the gloom. The sunlight along the rafters 
dwindled to a narrow strip, then disappeared; 
and the voices of the haymakers were long 
since gone when Amos and Molly finally 
climbed to their feet and descended the 
stairs. 



[210] 



IX 

SEPTEMBER brought other guests, and 
with their arrival Amos Judd and Molly 
Cabot found the easy, irresponsible routine of 
their happy summer again disturbed. To his 
own fierce regret Amos could invent no decent 
pretext for escaping a visit he had promised 
early in the summer, and a more unwilling 
victim never resigned himself to a week of 
pleasure. To the girl he was to leave behind 
him, he bewailed the unreasonable cruelty of 
his friends. "This leaving you, Soul of my 
Soul, is worse than death. I shall not eat while 
I am gone, and nights I shall sit up and curse." 
But at the end of a week he returned, 
promptly on the minute. His moments of de 
pression, however, seemed rather to increase 
than diminish, and, although carefully re 
pressed, were visible to a pair of watchful 
eyes. Upon his face w T hen in repose there had 
[211 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

always been a melancholy look,, which now 
seemed deepening as from an inward sorrow, 
too strong to conquer. This was betrayed oc 
casionally by a careless speech, but to her 
questioning he always returned a cheerful an 
swer. In spite of these heroic efforts to main 
tain a joyful front, Molly was not deceived, 
and it was evident, even to Mr. Cabot, that the 
young man was either ill in body or the victim 
of a mental disturbance that might be disas 
trous in its results. Of this he was destined to 
have a closer knowledge than his daughter. It 
came about one Sunday morning, when the 
two men had climbed a neighboring hill for a 
view which Mr. Cabot had postponed from 
week to week since early June. This was his 
last Sunday in Daleford and his final oppor 
tunity. 

The view was well worth the climb. The 
day itself, such a day as comes oftenest in 
September, when the clear air is tempered to 
[ 212 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

the exact degree for human comfort by the 
rays of a summer sun, was one in which the 
most indifferent view could shine without an 
effort. Below them, at the foot of the hill, lay 
the village of Daleford with its single street. 
Except the white spires of the churches, little 
of it could be seen, however, beneath the four 
rows of overhanging elms. Off to their left, 
a mile or two away, the broad Connecticut, 
through its valley of elms, flowed serenely to 
the sea; and beyond, the changing hills took 
on eveiy color from the deepest purple to a 
golden yellow. A green valley on their right 
\vaiidered off among the w r oods and hills, and 
in it the stately avenue of maples they both 
knew so well. A silence so absolute and so far- 
reaching rested upon the scene that, after a 
word or two of praise, the two men, from a 
common impulse, remained without speaking. 
As thus they sat under the gentle influence of 
a spell which neither cared to break, the notes 
[ 213 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

of an organ came floating upward from the 
trees below them, and mingled with the voices 
of a choir. Mr. Cabot s thoughts turned at once 
to the friend at his side, whom he felt must 
experience a yet deeper impression from these 
familiar scenes of his childhood. Turning to 
express this thought, he was so struck by the 
look upon Amos s face,, an expression of such 
despairing melancholy,, that he stopped in the 
middle of his sentence. While well aware that 
these tragic eyes were always most pathetic 
objects in repose, he had never seen upon a 
human face a clearer token of a hopeless 
grief. 

"What is it, my boy?" he asked, laying a 
hand upon the knee beside him. "Tell me. I 
may be able to help you." 

There was a slight hesitation and a long 
breath before the answer came. "I am ashamed 
to tell you, Mr. Cabot. I value your good opin 
ion so very much that it comes hard to let you 



AMOS J U D D 

know what a weak and cowardly thing I have 
been, and am." 

"Cowardly that I do not believe. You may 
be weak ; all of us are that ; in fact, it seems to 
be the distinguishing attribute of the human 
family. But out with it, whatever it is. You can 
trust me." 

"Oh, I know that, sir! If you were only less 
of a man and more like myself, it would be 
easier to do it. But I will tell you the whole 
story. By the fourth of November I shall not 
be alive, and I have known it for a year." 

Mr. Cabot turned in surprise. "Why do you 
think that?" 

But Amos went on without heeding the 
question. 

"I knew it when I asked Molly to be my 
wife; and all the time that she has gone on 
loving me more and more, I have known it, 
and done all I could to make things worse. 
And now, as the time approaches and I realize 
[215 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

that in a few weeks she will be a broken 
hearted woman for I have learned what her 
affection is and how much I am to her now I 
begin to see what I have done, God knows it 
is hard enough to die and leave her, but to die 
only to have played a practical joke on the girl 
for whom I would joyfully give a thousand lives 
if I had them,, is too much." 

He arose, and standing before her father, 
made a slight gesture as of surrender and resig 
nation. The older man looked away toward the 
distant river, but said nothing. 

"Listen, sir, and try to believe me." Mr. 
Cabot raised his glance to the dark face and 
saw truth and an open heart in the eyes fixed 
solemnly upon his own; and he recognized a 
being transformed by a passion immeasurably 
stronger than himself. 

"When I found she loved me I could think 
of nothing else. Why should I not be happy 
for the short time I had to live? Her love was 
[216] 



AMOS JUDD 

more to me than any earthly thing, than any 
possible hereafter. Better one summer with her 
than to live forever and not have known her. 
Oh! I thought of her side of it, often and 
often ; many a night I have done nothing else, 
but I could no more give her up than I could 
lift this hill." He paused, drew a long breath, 
as if at the hopelessness of words to convey his 
meaning, then added, very calmly: 

"Now I am soberer, as the end approaches, 
and I love her more than ever: but I will 
do whatever you say; anything that will make 
her happier. No sacrifice can be too great, and 
I promise you I will make it. I have often 
wished the bull had killed me that day, then I 
should have her love and respect forever; and 
yours too, perhaps." 

"You have both now, Amos. But tell me 
why you think you are to die by November 
fourth?" 

Amos resumed his seat upon the rock and 
[217 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

answered: "Because I have seen myself lying 
dead on that day." 

"I have sometimes wondered/ said Mr. 
Cabot, "if that temptation would not prove too 
strong for you." 

"No, sir, it was not too strong for me under 
ordinary circumstances, but it happened when 
I was not myself, when I came out of that fever 
last October, and as I lay in bed, weak and 
half-conscious, I felt sure my day had come. I 
thought the doctor was not telling me the 
truth, so, by looking ahead for myself, I learned 
more than I cared to know, and saw myself 
lying on a sofa in a strange room, a place I had 
never been into; a public building, I should 
think." 

<e But why do you think it is to be the fourth 
of November, and this year?" 

"Because I looked about and saw near a 
window a little day calendar, and that was the 
date it bore. Then on a table lay a daily paper 
[ 218 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

of the day before, and two magazines of the 
same month, all of this year." 

"But is it not possible the room is unoccu 
pied and that these things have been lying 
there indefinitely?" 

Amos shook his head. "No, sir, it is a room 
that is lived in. There are other papers lying 
about: books, and a letter on the desk waiting 
to be mailed. And in the fireplace the embers 
are still glowing." 

Mr. Cabot looked with the profoundest sym 
pathy toward his friend, who was scaling bits 
of moss from the rock beside him ; then he 
turned again to the view and its tranquil 
beauty seemed a mockery. In the village be 
low them he could see the congregation pour 
ing out from a little white church like ants 
from a loaf of sugar. Mr. Cabot was not a re 
ligious man, and at present there was nothing 
in his heart that could be mistaken for resig 
nation. His spirit was in revolt, his pugnacity 



AMOS JUDD 

aroused, and with this quality he was freely 
endowed. Rising to his feet he stood for a 
moment in silence, with folded arms, frowning 
upon the distant hills. 

"Amos," he said, finally, "in spite of bygone 
defeats I am inclined to resist this prophecy of 
yours. You were not absolutely master of your 
own mind at the time, and under such condi 
tions nothing would be easier than to confuse 
your own imagining with a vision of another 
character. At least it is not impossible, and if 
by good luck you did happen to confound one 
with the other we are having our panic for 
nothing. Moreover, even if this vision is cor 
rect, it need not necessarily signify an unde- 
viating fulfilment in every detail. It may indi 
cate the result to be expected in the natural 
order of events; that is, if things are allowed 
to take their course without obstruction or in 
tervening influences. But it is difficult for me 
to believe this faculty is to continue infallible 
[ 220 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

through all your mental and physical develop 
ments and fluctuations of faith, and never, 
under any possible conditions, vary a hair s- 
breadth from the truth. It is a law of nature 
that a disused faculty shall weaken and lose 
its power, and for years you have done your 
best to repress and forget it." 

"Yes, sir, but whenever employed it has 
been correct." 

"That may be, and its day of failure still 
remain a probability. In this present case the 
prophecy, aside from its uncertain origin, is 
one whose fulfilment is more easy to avert than 
some of the others. You say the room in which 
you saw yourself is one you are unfamiliar with, 
and consequently is not in Daleford." 

"Oh, no! There is nothing like it in this 
vicinity." 

"Well, suppose you were to remain in Dale- 
ford during the critical period with two men, 
nominally visitors at your house, to watch you 
[ 221 1 



AMOS J U D D 

day and night and see that you do not escape? 
Or, better still, let me send you to an institu 
tion in which I am a director, where you will 
be confined as a dangerous patient, and where 
escape, even if you attempted it, would be as 
hopeless as from a prison." 

Amos doubted the success of any attempt at 
foiling fate, or, in other words, giving the lie 
to a revelation once received, but he was will 
ing to do whatever his friend desired. As they 
walked home they discussed the plan in detail 
and decided to act upon it; also to take every 
precaution that Molly should be kept in igno 
rance. 

The first week in October the house at the 
north end of the avenue was empty and the 
Cabots were in New York. As the end of the 
month approached a little tale was invented 
to explain the cessation for a time of Amos s 
visits, and early one afternoon the two men 
got into a cab and were driven to the out- 
[ 222 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

skirts of the city. They entered the grounds 
of a well-known institution, were received by 
the superintendent and one or two other offi 
cials, then, at the request of the elder visitor, 
were shown over the entire building and into 
every room of any size or importance. When 
this inspection was over Mr. Cabot took his 
companion aside and asked if he had seen 
the room they sought. Amos shook his head 
and replied that no such room could be within 
the grounds. A few minutes later the young 
man was shown to a chamber where his trunk 
had preceded him. The two friends were alone 
for a moment, and as they separated Amos 
gave the hand in his own a final pressure, 
saying: "Don t think I am weakening, Mr. 
Cabot, but I cannot help feeling that I have 
seen Molly for the last time. And if you and 
I never meet again, you may be sure my last 
thoughts were with you both." 

In a cheerful tone the lawyer answered: "I 
f 223 1 



AMOS JUDD 

shall listen to no such sentiments. If your 
prophecy is correct you are to be lying in a 
room outside these grounds on November 
fourth. No such prophecy can be carried out. 
And if the prophecy is incorrect we shall meet 
for several years yet. So good-by, my boy. I 
shall be here the third." 

During ten days Amos was to remain under 
the strictest watch, to be guarded by two men 
at night and by two others in the day-time, 
and to be permitted under no conditions to 
leave that wing of the building. By the subor 
dinate in charge and by the four guardians he 
was believed to be the victim of a suicidal 
mania. As the fourth of November approached 
Mr. Cabot s thoughts were less upon his busi 
ness than with his imprisoned friend. He 
remembered with what inexorable force he 
himself had been held to the fulfilment of a 
prediction. He had felt the hand of an un 
swerving fate; and he had not forgotten. 
[ 224 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

But the fourth of November came and went 
with 110 serious results, and when the five suc 
ceeding days had safely passed he experienced 
a relief which he was very careful to conceal. 
With friendly hypocrisy he assumed a perfect 
confidence in the result of their course,, and he 
was glad to see that Amos himself began to 
realize that anything like a literal fulfilment of 
his vision was now improbable. 

One week later, the last day of durance, the 
prisoner and Mr. Cabot had an interview with 
Dr. Chapin in the latter s private office. Dr. 
Chapin, the physician in charge, an expert of 
distinction in mental disorders, was a man 
about sixty years of age, short, slight, and pale, 
with small eyes, a very large nose, and a nar 
row, clean-shaven face. His physical peculiari 
ties were emphasized by a complete indiffer 
ence as to the shape or quality of his raiment; 
his coat was a consummate misfit, and his 
trousers were baggy at the knees. Even the 
[ 225 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

spectacles, which also fitted badly, were never 
parallel with his eyes and constantly required 
an upward shove along his nose. But a profes 
sional intercourse with this gentleman led to a 
conviction that his mental outfit bore no rela 
tion to his apparel. Mr. Cabot had known him 
for years, and Amos felt at once that he was in 
the presence of a man of unusual insight. Dr. 
Chapin spoke calmly and without pretension, 
but as one careful of his speech and who knew 
his facts. 

"That you should have made that visit 
against your will," he said to Mr. Cabot in an 
swering a question, "is not difficult to explain as 
Mr. Judd unconsciously brought to bear upon 
your movements a force to which he himself 
has repeatedly yielded. If he happens to re 
member, I think he will find that his thoughts 
were with you at that time," and he smiled 
pleasantly on Amos. 

"Yes, sir, but only as a matter of interest in 
[ 226 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

the novel experience I knew Mr. Cabot was 
going through." 

"Certainly, but if you had forgotten the 
visit and if you believed at that moment that 
he was to go in another direction, Mr. Cabot 
would have followed the other thought with 
equal obedience. This unconscious control of 
one intelligence over another is well established 
and within certain limits can be explained, but 
in these affairs science is compelled to accept 
a barrier beyond which we can only speculate. 
In this case the unusual and the most interest 
ing feature is the unvarying accuracy of your 
visions. You have inherited something from 
your Eastern ancestors to which a hypothesis 
can be adjusted, but which is in fact beyond a 
scientific explanation. I should not be at all 
surprised to find somewhere in the city the 
room in which you saw yourself lying; and it 
is more than probable that, if unrestrained, 
you would have discovered it and fulfilled your 



AMOS JUDD 

prophecy, unconsciously obedient to that irre 
sistible force. A blow,, a fall, a stroke of apo 
plexy or heart disease; the sudden yielding of 
your weakest part under a nervous pressure, 
could easily bring about the completion of 
your picture. Some of the authenticated re 
ports of corresponding cases are almost in 
credible. But before you are forty, Mr. Judd, 
you will find in these visions a gradual diminu 
tion of accuracy and also, as in this case, that 
their fulfilment is by no means imperative." 

For Amos there was immense relief in hear 
ing this, especially from such a source, and he 
left the building with a lighter heart than he 
had known for months. Now that the danger 
was over, he wished the wedding to take place 
at once, but Molly would consent to no undig 
nified haste. He found, however, an unexpected 
and influential ally in her grandmother Jouve- 
nal, just arrived from her home in Maryland 
for a month s visit, and who insisted upon the 
[ 228 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

wedding taking place while she was with them. 
Mrs. Jouvenal was a slender person of sprightly 
manners, whose long life had been sweetly 
tempered by an exaggerated estimate of the 
importance of her own family; but in other 
matters she was reasonable and clear-headed, 
endowed with quick perceptions, a ready wit, 
and one of those youthful spirits that never 
grow old. She was interested in all that went 
on about her, was never bored and never dull. 
It was of course a little disappointing that a 
girl with such an ancestry as Molly s, on her 
mother s side, should give herself to an un 
known Judd from an obscure New England 
village; but her fondness for Amos soon con 
soled her for the mesalliance. Molly had a 
strong desire to acquaint her grandmother 
with the ancestral facts of the case, but Amos 
refused to give his consent. Those discoveries 
in the attic he insisted they must keep to 
themselves, at least while he was alive. " When 
[ 229 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

I am transplanted I shall be beyond the reach 
of terrestrial snobs, and you can do as you 
please." 

The first week in December Mrs. Jouvenal 
was to visit her son in Boston. "And really., 
my child/ she said to Molly, "it is the last 
wedding in the family I shall be alive to see, 
and with such an exotic specimen as you have 
selected, I shall not be sure of a Christian 
ceremony unless I see it myself." 

As her father remained neutral Molly finally 
yielded, and there was a wedding the first 
Wednesday in December. 



[ 230 ] 



X 

O I look tired and dragged out?" 
asked the bride of an hour as they 
drove to the train. 

"You look a little tired, a little flushed, a 
little ashamed, and tremendously interesting. 
But you may hold my hand." 

"I am ashamed," and she pushed the up 
turned hand from her lap and looked out the 
window. 

"But, Light of my Soul, you give us away 
by those imbecile blushes. You might just as 
well thrust your head out of the carriage and 
cry, Behold the bride and groom! " 

She smiled and leaned back, but still looked 
out. "That s the horrid feature of a honey 
moon. Everybody knows it and everybody 
looks at you. Is it too late to go back and 
undo it?" 

"What a bloodcurdling thought!" 
[ 231 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"And it should n t rain on our wedding-day, 
little Amos." 

"Of course it rains. These are the tears of 
countless lovers who lived before the days of 
Molly Cabot." 

But they left the rain behind them, and 
farther South, away down in Carolina, they 
found plenty of sunshine, with green grass 
and flowers and piny woods. 

One of their first diversions on reaching this 
southern country was to go out with a driver 
and a pair of horses, but the harvest of plea 
sure was insufficient. "The conversation of a 
honeymoon," observed the bridegroom, "is too 
exalted for other ears. If we talk as the spirit 
moves us, the coachman, unless in love him 
self, may collapse from nausea: so let us be 
merciful and drive ourselves." 

Thereupon he secured a buggy with an old 
gray horse, and from this combination their 
felicity was much increased. The old horse 
[ 232 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

they called Browser, because of the only thing 
he would do without being urged; and it re 
quired but a single drive to develop his good 
points, which happened to be the very quali 
ties required. He was dreamy, inattentive, 
never hasty, and not easily disgusted. His in 
fluence was distinctly restful, and his capacity 
for ignoring a foolish conversation phenomenal. 
It was decided by his present associates that 
these virtues were either hereditary, or had 
been developed to the highest perfection by 
a long and tender experience. 

"It s my opinion," remarked the groom, 
"that being so extensively used as a nuptial 
horse has resulted in his regarding honeymoon 
foolishness as the usual form of conversation. 
He probably thinks they talk that way in the 
courts and on the Stock Exchange." 

But accustomed as Browser was to cloying 
repetitions, there were times when his endur 
ance was sorely tried. On one occasion the 
[ 233 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

bride alighted from the buggy, and going a 
little ahead, gathered wild flowers by the road 
side; and as she returned, Amos, who was giv 
ing Browser a handful of grass, raised his hat 
in a ceremonious manner and advanced toward 
her with extended hand, exclaiming: 

"Why, Miss Cabot! How do you do? I had 
no idea you were here. My name is Judd." 

"I beg your pardon," she replied, dra wing- 
stiffly back, "your name is not Judd, and you 
don t know what it is. I can never marry a 
man who 

"Wait till you are asked," he interrupted, 
then threw both arms about her, and so they 
stood for a moment, she making no effort to 
escape. 

Browser blushed and turned away. 

In secluded corners of the vast and ramify 
ing hotel piazza they spent long evenings and 
watched the moon, the other people, and the 
distant ocean, and talked, and talked, and 
[234] 



AMOS JUDD 

talked. Of this talk no serious pen could write. 
The very ink would laugh or turn to sugar and 
run away in shame. And when these conver 
sations were finished, two well-dressed and 
seemingly intelligent people would arise, and 
with brazen faces enter the grand rotunda of 
the hotel, where other guests would see them 
enter the elevator, float heavenward and dis 
appear from human eyes. But the vexatious 
color still came and went in Molly s face, and 
seemed ever ready to give the lie to the gen 
tle dignity and composure which rarely de 
serted her. Strolling through the gardens of 
the hotel one afternoon, they met a stately 
matron with her two daughters, whom Molly 
knew, and as they separated after the usual 
conversation, Amos jeered at the bride, saying: 
"Really, old Girl, it is mortifying the way you 
blush upon this trip. I don t blame the blushes 
for selecting such a face, but you only give 
yourself away. It is merely another manner of 
[ 235 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

saying f l know I am guilty, and just see how 
ashamed I am! " 

"Oh, don t talk about it! It s hideous, but I 
can t help it. Are all brides such fools?" 

"I don t know, I never travelled with one 
before, but I shall leave you behind if you keep 
it up. Try and think you have been married 
for twenty years. Do you suppose the daisies 
giggle and the sun winks at the other planets 
every time we look out the window ? Or that it 
is because Molly and Amos are spliced that 
the carnations blush and the violets hide their 
faces? But I will say this for you, Spirit of 
Old-fashioned Roses, that all this blushing 
and unblushing is tremendously becoming." 

"Thank you; but I must paint or wear a 
veil, or only come out at night. There is no 
other way." 

The days went by, all much alike, in the 
sunny atmosphere of an overwhelming content. 
In the woods they found a distant spot which 
[ 236 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

laid no claim to publicity, and here upon the 
pine carpet with the drowsy rustling of the 
leaves above, they passed many hours in a se 
rene indifference to the flight of time. Some 
times they brought a book, not a page of which 
was ever read, but no deceit was necessary, as 
the onJy witnesses were occasional birds and 
squirrels whose ideas of decorum were primi 
tive and none too strict. One bird, who seemed 
to wear a dress-suit with an orange shirt-front, 
considered his household in danger and ac 
quired an insolent habit of perching himself 
upon a bough within a dozen feet, and doing 
his best to scare them off. But as they reap 
peared day after day and respected his rights 
his anger gradually diminished, until at last 
he varied his vituperations by a peculiar song, 
both joyous and triumphant, which amused the 
interlopers. 

"1 should like to know what his little feel 
ings really are," said the bride, as with a pine- 
[ 237 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

needle she annoyed the sensitive portions of 
the head reposing in her lap. The upturned 
eyes lingered for a moment upon the patch of 
blue between the pine-tops, then with a look 
of mild surprise turned lazily to her own. 

"Do you really mean to confess, Gentle 
Roses, that you don t know what he says?" 

As this speech was uttered the instrument 
of torture was cleverly inserted between the 
parted lips. "No; and perhaps I don t care to." 

"But listen. There! Don t you get it? He 
knows we are on a honeymoon and keeps re 
peating, in that victorious way: 

"Amos has got her! 
Amos has got her!" 

The bride laughed; her face bent over to 
the one beneath, but the bird upon the bough 
was not disgusted. He stood his ground and 
sang his song as if Love and Folly were things 
to be respected. 

[ 238 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

When the day of departure came they turned 
their backs with sorrow upon a resting-place 
whose cosey corners they knew so well and 
whose groves no grateful lovers could forget. 
These tender memories were a soothing recom 
pense for descending to an earthly life. As the 
train moved away she whispered, "Good-by, 
honeymoon!" 

" Don t say that!" exclaimed Amos. "Let us 
hold on to it forever. I shall die a lover and I 
expect the same of you." 

The promise to Grandmother Jouvenal was 
not forgotten, and when they left the train at 
a little station in Maryland a carriage was 
awaiting them. As they entered the avenue 
and came in sight of the old house, Molly re 
garded her companion with eager eyes to be 
sure that he was properly impressed. 

"It s fine!" he exclaimed. "An ideal man 
sion of the period. And you say it is over two 
hundred years old?" 

[ 239 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

"Yes, the main house is, but just wait till 
you see the inside! It s crammed full of colo 
nial furniture and family portraits." 

"What on earth is the circular part at the 
end of that wing? Is it a circus or only a gym 
nasium for your grandmother?" 

Molly laughed. "That s the library. Grand 
pa s father was an astronomer and started to 
build an observatory, but died when it was 
half-way up; so grandpa, who was not an as 
tronomer, finished it as a library. But it makes 
a beautiful room." 

From her grandmother they received a cor 
dial welcome. It was dark when they arrived, 
and as Mrs. Jou venal had accepted for them 
an invitation to a dance that evening at the 
house of a neighbor, whose daughters were old 
playmates of Molly s, there was little time for 
seeing the house. But Molly did not like to 
wait and proposed a hasty tour, wishing to 
show Amos at once the old portraits and fur- 
[ 240 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

niturc and the treasures of family silver. To 
this her grandmother objected. "Do wait till 
to-morrow, child. Your Amos can sleep with 
out it, and besides the rooms are not in order 
yet. Remember I only came back myself this 
morning, after a two months absence." 

And so that pleasure was delayed. They 
arrived early at the ball, and as she joined 
him at the head of the stairs he glanced at 
the jewels in her hair and asked, after a mo 
ment s hesitation, if she would do him a little 
favor. 

"Of course I will. Only name it, dusky 
Rajah," and looking up at him with admiring 
eyes she smiled as she remembered for the 
hundredth time how seriously he w r as annoyed 
by any compliment upon his appearance. 

"Are you very much attached to that cres 
cent in your hair?" 

"If I were it should make no difference. 
You don t like it, and that s enough," and she 
[241 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

raised her hand to remove the ornament. But 
he interrupted the motion. "Don t take it off 
now, for you have nothing to replace it; but 
that is the smallest part of the request. The 
real favor is that you shall not ask me why I 
do it." 

"That is asking a good deal, but I consent. 
And now tell me, how do I look? There is a 
wretched light in there." 

"You look like what you are, the joy of 
to-day and the rainbow of a happy morrow." 

"No, be serious. Is my hair in every direc 
tion?" 

He regarded her gravely and with care. 
"Your hair is just right, and for general effect 
you are far and away the prettiest, the dain 
tiest, the most highbred-looking girl within a 
thousand miles of this or of any other spot; 
and if we were alone and unobserved, I should 
gather you in as " Voices close at hand 
caused them to turn and descend the stairs 
[ 242 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

with the solemnity of an ancient couple who 
find dignity a restful substitute for the frivoli 
ties of youth. Once in the ball-room, with the 
wild Hungarian music at their heels, there was 
little repose for two such dancers. When the 
first notes of the waltz that Molly loved above 
all others, came floating through the hall, 
Amos cut in before a youth who was hastening 
toward the bride and swung her out across the 
floor. As they glided away with the music that 
was stirring in her heart old memories of what 
seemed a previous existence, she heard at her 
ear "Do you remember when first we waltzed? 
How you did snub me! But life began that 
night." 

Instead of returning at eleven o clock, they 
returned at two in the morning. By Amos s 
request it had been arranged that no servant 
should sit up for them, but when they entered 
the hall and found it dark Molly expressed 
surprise that not a single light should have 
[243 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

been left burning. They easily found the 
matches, however, and lighted a candle. Amos 
had just learned from the coachman that a let 
ter ready at six in the morning would go by 
an early train, so Molly showed him a little 
desk of her grandmother s in the dining-room, 
and then left him to his writing. Passing 
through the hall toward the stairs she hap 
pened to look into a sitting-room, and beyond 
it, through a corridor, saw a portion of the big 
library where the moonlight fell upon a marble 
bust. She paused, then returning to the door 
of the dining-room, asked, 

" How long shall you be at that letter, little 
prince?" 

"Not five minutes." 

"Then come into the library and see it in 
the moonlight. You will find a girl there who 
is interested in you." 

"All right. That girl will not wait long." 

Although familiar with the old library, 
[ 244 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

Molly was impressed anew by its stately pro 
portions as she entered from the little corridor. 
The spacious room was now flooded by the 
moonlight that streamed through the high 
windows at the farther end and brought out, 
in ghostly relief, the white Ionic columns 
against the encircling wall. Between them, in 
varying shapes and sizes, hung the family por 
traits, and in front of every column stood a 
pedestal with its marble bust. At the present 
moment the pallid face of Dante caught the 
moonbeams, and seemed to follow her with 
solemn eyes. As she swept with a rustle of silk 
along the huge, round, crimson carpet, she re 
membered how deeply she had been impressed 
in former years by the knowledge that it was 
made in England expressly for this room. The 
perfect stillness w r as broken only by herself as 
she moved out into the wide circle of mysteri 
ous faces. 

At her right, between two of the columns, 
[245] 



AMOS JUDD 

in a lofty mirror that filled the space from floor 
to cornice, marched her own reflection. She 
stopped, and regarded it. With her white dress 
and the moonlight upon her head and shoul 
ders, it was a striking figure and recalled the 
night, a year ago, when she stood at the win 
dow of her chamber, and tried in vain to dis 
cover why such a vision should have startled 
Mr. Amos Judd. Mr. Amos Judd! How she 
hated him that night! Hated him! the dear, 
lovely, old, perfect Amos! She smiled, and 
beat time with a foot, humming a fragment of 
that bewitching waltz. And the crescent that 
he had asked her not to wear again, flashed 
back at her from the mirror. She would remove 
it now, upon the instant, and never more, not 
even to-night, should the dear boy be troubled 
by it. As her fingers touched the jewels she 
saw something in the mirror that sent the 
blood from her heart, and caused the hand to 
drop convulsively to her breast. Behind her, 
[ 246 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

across the room, in the shadow of a pedestal, 
were glistening two other things that moved 
like a pair of human eyes. With an involuntary 
cry she wheeled about, and before she could 
turn again at a sudden movement behind her, 
an arm was thrown about her waist, strong 
fingers clutched her throat and in her ear came 
a muttered warning: "Be quiet, lady, or it s 
up with yer!" 

But the cry had reached Amos in the dis 
tant dining-room, and she heard his footsteps 
hurrying across the hall. The fingers tightened 
at her throat; she was pushed with violence 
into the shadow of the nearest column, and 
held there. Gasping, strangling, she seized in 
stinctively with both hands the wrist that was 
squeezing the life from her body, but her 
feeble fingers against such a strength were as 
nothing. Pressing close upon her she saw the 
dim outline of a cap upon the back of a head, 
a big neck, and a heavy chin. With bursting 



AMOS JUDD 

throbs the blood beat through her head and 
eyes,, and she would have sunk to the floor but 
for the hands that held her with an iron force. 

In this torture of suffocation came a blur, 
but through it she saw Amos spring into the 
room, then stop for a second as if to find his 
bearings. 

"Moll," he said, in a half-whisper. 

There was no answer. Fainting, powerless 
even to make an effort, she saw the man be 
fore her raise a revolver with his other hand, 
and take deliberate aim at the broad, white 
shirt-front, an easy target in the surrounding 
gloom. In an agony of despair she made a 
frenzied effort, struck up the weapon as the 
shot was fired, and sent the bullet high above 
its mark, through the waistcoat of a colonial 
governor. 

The next instant the fingers were torn from 
her throat, and as she sank half-fainting to 
her knees, the two men in a savage tussle 
[ 248 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

swayed out into the room, then back with such 
force against a pedestal that it tottered, and 
w r ith its heavy bust came crashing to the floor. 

The struggling figures also fell. The burglar 
was beneath, and as he landed, his weapon 
was knocked from his hand. With a blow and 
a sudden twist Amos wrenched away, picked 
up the pistol, turned upon his swiftly rising 
foe, and sent a bullet through his skull. With 
out a sound the man sank back again to the 
floor. 

"Are you hurt, Moll?" was the first ques 
tion as Amos took a step toward the white, 
crouching figure. Her bare arm shot out into 
the moonlight and a finger pointed across the 
library. "There s another! look out!" 

The second man, in his stocking feet like 
his comrade, had crept from his hiding place, 
and as she pointed he swung up his pistol and 
pulled the trigger. But Amos was quicker. 
Shots in rapid succession echoed through the 
[ 249] 



AMOS JUDD 

house, two, three, perhaps half a dozen, she 
never knew; but she saw to her joy, that Amos 
at the end of it all was still standing, while 
the burglar, with a smothered malediction, 
tumbled heavily into an easy chair behind him, 
slid out of it to his knees, and pitched forward 
on his face. There was a convulsive twitching 
of the legs, and all was still again. Beneath 
him lay a bag into which, a few moments be 
fore, had been stuffed the ancestral silver. 

As she climbed painfully to her feet, grasp 
ing with tremulous fingers a chair at her side, 
she saw Amos turn about, and with wavering 
steps, approach the column between the win 
dows where, in the full light of the moon, 
hung a little calendar, and on it 
Nov. 

4 

He uttered no sound, but his head drooped 

and he staggered back. Reeling against a low 

divan he fell his length upon it, and lay with 

[250] 



AMOS JUDD 

upturned face, motionless as the two men upon 
the floor. 

Molly hastened to his side and bent over 
him with an anxious question. In the full rays 
of the moon her head and neck with the white 
dress were almost luminous against the dim 
recesses of the room behind; and his eyes 
rested with a dazed, half-frightened look on 
the diamond crescent, then fell to her face, 
and up again to the jewels in her hair. With 
an effort he laid a hand upon her shoulder and 
answered, with a feeble smile, "The end has 
come, my Moll." 

"No, no. Don t say that! I ll send for the 
doctor and have him here at once!" 

But the hand restrained her. "It s of no use. 
The ball went here, through the chest." 

"But, darling, your life may depend upon 
it! You don t know r ." 

"Yes I do know. My own death, with you 
bending over me in the moonlight in this 
[251 ] 



AMOS JUDD 

room I saw before we ever met. The same 
vision again when you stood before me in 
the conservatory, was what startled me 
that night, a year ago." 

He spoke with difficulty, in a failing tone. 
There followed broken words; from the face 
against his own tears fell upon his cheek, and 
she murmured, "Take me with you, Amos." 

"No not that;" then slowly, in a voice 
growing fainter with each word, "but there is 
no Heaven without you, Spirit of Old-fash 
ioned Roses." 

A gentle pressure from the fingers that held 
her own, and in the moonlight lay a peaceful 
face where a smile still lingered on the lips. 



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